Blessings of the Twisting Eye
by gardenofmanypaths
Summary: He wakes from a grisly dream with nothing but red eyes and fear- but his clan is safe, right? It can't be real, but this month is strangely familiar... Massacre!Loop!Sasuke, Hero!Sasuke
1. Chapter 1

**Blessings of the Twisting Eye**

 **Chapter 1**

"Tekka! Inabi!" Nothing. No cousin Tekka at the compound gate playing cards with the other guards and no icecream vendors who pretend they're my grandma. Where was everyone? The silence gives me the creeps. Maybe there was a clan meeting I'd forgotten about? Dad would be so disappointed if I was late. That had to be why…why else would the streets seem so dead?

To Naka Shrine, then. But first…I'd get there faster if I could drop my bag off. I ran towards Aunt Aiko's house, and pushed the door open. It was silent. I shrugged the bag off and bent to tighten my sandals. Huh. It was wet. Had someone spilled water…or ink? It was dark and smelled weakly metallic. My heart sped up. Was it blood?

Rustling through my bag, I grabbed the kunai set I'd taken to the Academy. Blunted though they were, I felt better with their weight. I licked my lips, mouth dry. "Aaunt Aiko? A-a-anyone home?" I called out. I heard a groan from her bedroom and froze. Could she be injured. I adjusted my grip on the kunai, ignored my trembling hands, and pushed the door open, dreading what I'd see. Blood. A dark puddle covered the floor, and my aunt lay in the middle in of it. It stunk of blood. I held my breath and moved slowly to her side, bending so I could hear if she was breathing.

I felt my body move as if in a dream, testing for a pulse just as the Academy had taught us. Who could have done this? Aiko hadn't been a Jounin but she'd had a Sharingan, and I could recall long afternoons of her patient hands guiding my own through stances when my parents were too busy. She was a shinobi, an Uchiha. No ordinary killer could—or even would—enter an Uchiha home.

Was the enemy still here? Panicked, I checked the room again. No one, not even a sound, only my frantic breathing and, I noted with faint disbelief, her faint breathing.

Her faint voice wheezes "Sasuke, come closer." How was she alive? I didn't dare touch it for fear of making it worse, but I could see the bright red wound where her heart was. We hadn't covered vital spots yet, but everyone knew being stabbed in the heart was deadly. This had to be a dream.

I inched closer. Her eyes opened, Sharingan spinning. The tomoe whirled and lengthened, twisted into a drawn out intricate spiral, before her right eye turned milky white and closed. Blood trickled slowly from it. I'd never seen an eye do that and something about it felt profoundly wrong. For an absurd moment I thought I felt my own burn, and touched it to reassure myself. Aiko's hand twitched and she gripped my hand with surprising strength, pulled me closer. A faint whisper, past my hearing. Get closer. I felt drops of blood dampen my ear as she whispered.

"Save us." Did that mean others were in danger too? Mom and dad…were they okay?

Long seconds pass as I rock back on my knees, and as my gaze tracks up, I catch sight of my cousin's cradle.

No no no no no.

I'm on my feet in a flash and I exhale in relief as I see my peaceful cousin. Akira doesn't seem injured; he's just resting quietly, swathed in dark pajamas. There's no time to waste, I've got to get him somewhere safe. Frantically but gently, I scoop him up, rest his head against my shoulder, hold him tight, and head for the door. My mom will know what to do.

In the twilight and as fast as I'm running, the streets are a blur. Past the first row of houses, past the clan fountain where fish gurgle among cool water—and all around me, my clan lies dead. I set Akira down gently against a wall, and distantly, as if in a dream, see his head flop backwards, neck gaping open like a gruesome flower. My hands are damp with blood—Akira's, I realize—and I need to clean them and be with mother and father and Itachi and be safe and wake up—and I'm running to my house, the largest in the district.

"Mother! Father!"

Beside my yells, all is silent. I'm running again, through the entrance, and towards my parent's room where they'll be smiling and tell me it's a dream and I'll be a great ninja like Itachi one day too.

They're lying in a pool, and Itachi stands with wet sword in hand, and then the world turns red and black and I see it all again. 

* * *

I awake with a scream, heart racing and soaked in sweat, and above me the fan whirls clean and crisp. My mom enters a moment later, and I drink in her features, more clear than they've ever been, hugging her frantically, half sobbing, half laughing, since of course it's all dream. Even now the images are fading. I remember blood, overwhelming panic, and something red and black, twisting, _wrong_.

"Sasuke. Your eyes…" my father says, and I hug him too, hands stretching to hold them both, even if he's usually grumpy in the mornings.

I pull away, and I grin weakly at them. It was a dream, and it doesn't matter what I saw, because big boys don't cry from their dreams, Itachi doesn't, and I won't.

"its okay mother, father. I just…it was a bad dream. I'm sorry for waking you up," I say, and climb out of bed. Its earlier than my usual wakeup time, but its light enough to train, and I need to work some energy off. Nothing remains from my dream except the nervous energy. Father tousles my hair hesitantly, as if unsure, and smiles at me.

"It must have been quite a dream to awaken your Sharingan, Sasuke. Mikoto, I think he might be the first to wake them with nothing but a nightmare," he says, smiling at mother. Mother still hasn't let go of the hug, and usually I'd be squirming in embarrassment, but it feels...nice. I have a feeling she knows how shaken up I am, and she holds me tight till my trembling stops.

"We're very proud of you, Sasuke. To be only 8 and awaken your eyes is magnificent. If you can produce a Grand Fireball too, you'll be a full member of the clan," father says. I straighten my posture, look him in the eye, and give him my most serious nod.

"But not in mine. You'll always be my baby," mother says, tickling me till I'm wheezing and bent over. Even if he doesn't join in, I can see father smiling. How could I have been so scared? No dream could be _that_ bad.

"Can I try it yet father? Maybe today?" I ask. I'm trying my hardest to stick between pleading and mature. It's hard. Father and mother glance at each other, and dad nods. Yes! I'll show them how good I can be.

"It goes like this: Tiger, Snake, Ram, Monkey, Boar, Horse, Tiger, and then you breathe out your chakra as smoothly as you can. Try the signs first, and then see if you can make one," father says. I take a moment to appreciate the attention father's giving me, the heady confidence I feel.

Upon the pier I move slowly through the signs. Deep breaths—in cold air, out hot air touched by chakra—the Uchiha mantra on my mind, "With my strength, I will reality." Across the lake I can see distant bugs buzzing through grass, the slow awakening of nature in the early hours of morning.

There. My chakra feels ready, the right balance of confident and tense. My hands move steadily, my breath is strong and I know the jutsu will be perfect before the first tongues of fire leave my lips. The ball of fire I make is as big as father's, shimmery with chakra in my eyes, and as it dissipates, leaves wafts of steam on the surface, water boiling under the surface. It felt…practiced, somehow, though I know I've never tried that jutsu out. I look to father, expectant.

"Good. You'll be as good as Itachi soon enough," he says, smiling broadly, "and since you've awakened your Sharingan too, we'll have the ceremony tonight."

I'm grinning ear to ear all the way through breakfast even though Itachi is still on a mission, and I step through the door with energy to spare even after my display this morning.

"Be at Naka Shrine by 7 tonight, Sasuke. Don't train too late," my dad says as I wave goodbye.

It's a good day. I keep my Sharingan activated all the way to school, and Konoha has never looked so vivid. From across the village I can make out the texture of the Hokage monument rock, the fine tracery of a leaf dancing on the wind, and the vague outlines of people's chakra. Sometimes I can see fast-moving ninja jumping from roof to roof, their jumps silent even as they move dozens of feet in seconds. I want to learn it all, and with these eyes, I know I can. Maybe I'll learn a cool new jutsu tonight at the ceremony, and the rest of the clan will see my eyes and Itachi will get home and we can train together.

By the time I get to the Academy I'm tired enough to let my eyes turn black again, so the school day starts off as usual. We review the 12 hand signs, going through the motions together, and I'm only barely paying attention. I'm a little puzzled: it almost felt like I'd practiced the grand fireball before this morning. It was so easy—I barely thought about what the signs were, my body moved on its own.

"Sasuke! Are you listening? We've been talking about the First Hokage. When did he die?" Is that Manabu-sensei? She never yells at me.

"Umm, 10 years after the founding of Konoha in battle, thought to be as a result of poisoning," I reply. I've heard the history of the village from my father every year, and besides that, whatever we're doing in the academy today is weirdly fresh in my mind.

"Very good. Now, the Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju, was Hashirama's brother, and protected his brother's legacy by starting many of Konoha's most important institutions. Who knows what they are?"

After we break for lunch we go over the signs again, and I'm sent to stand at the front of the class to demonstrate sequences for everyone. I pretend I don't like the attention, but I can't help the grin as I picture telling Itachi that I did so well I got to teach. We all let out a cheer as we break for spars, and line up to wait.

"First up: Sasuke Uchiha and Naruto Uzumaki. "

They always pair the top of the class with the dead last, so I've fought him a bunch. He's not so bad at sparring but he always fails the tests, so he winds up at the bottom of the pile.

We nod at each other, make the Seal of Confrontation, and then square off. We're both grinning, and Naruto yells "Get ready to lose! I'll be the best ninja in the whole academy by the end of today!" I laugh it off, knowing it'll make him more angry than anything else, and let him charge. He's fast but sloppy, leaves holes in his defense, but knows how to take a hit, so I don't go easy on him.

He runs forward, punches with his right hand, and as my eyes change to red, I easily catch his fist. A pull towards me, he briefly stumbles forward, and I push him into the ground with my left hand, pulling his arm around his back to hold him down. I lightly press my knee into his back and he stops struggling. The fight takes brief seconds, even faster than I usually win. Is it the power of these eyes? Everyone is watching in awe.

"Sasuke. Naruto. Make the Unison Seal." We do, but Naruto scrunches his face up and yells,

"He only won 'cause of those freaky eye things. As soon as my eyes turn red, I'll win too!"

"They're Sharingan, idiot, and they're the bloodline of the Uchiha. There's no way you'll get them." I can't hold back my laughter. Is this guy for real?

He turns away, stomps back to his usual spot, and fumes as others praise me. He always takes things so personally, I don't know why.

"Sasuke, since you won, you'll fight Hinata next."

We make the Seal of Confrontation, and square off. Her eyes bulge as she activates her Byakugan, and her stance changes from the Academy standard. I'm excited for this match since she fights differently than most. Hopefully she'll be a challenge.

I start off this time. I sprint forward and feint with a punch, then sweep my foot under her. She ignores the punch and jumps over me, open hand coming down to hit my head—but I bat it away and kick her as she's off balance for a split second. She doesn't fall, but puts a hand down to catch herself as she bleeds the momentum into a roll, and I'm moving to strike from behind as she's turned away. There's no way she'll see it in time.

She catches it anyway—her Byakugan, of course!—but I'm already pulling her back as she's spinning to face me and with a blur (to their eyes but not to mine) I'm on top of her, hand pressing her face in the ground as gently as I can. I'm not mean when I spar—just a winner.

"Sasuke wins. Nice job, Hinata," Manabu-sensei says, and I help Hinata up. She nods her thanks, avoiding eye contact, and we make the Unison Seal. My eyes go black again. I hear my classmates trying to talk to me but I'm too caught up in the rush of winning to really hear them. I've never lost a spar before but they're usually harder—today I felt like I was moving so much faster and cleaner. I couldn't wait to show father how good I was.

Mindful of my dad's warning this morning, I walk quickly back home from the academy, wash for tonight, and put on my formal clothes, Uchiha fan proudly emblazoned on my back. Father and Mother walk on either side of me, smiling proudly, and we make our way through the oldest parts of the Uchiha district to Naka Shrine, electric lights and modern apartments giving way to the old-fashioned homes built during the initial settlement of Konoha. I've always loved coming here with my family—the Hyuuga and the Uchiha are the only clans to really preserve their historic sites.

My close family is gathered there—not Itachi or Shisui, busy as they are on missions—but my cousins and uncles, 4-year old Keisuke who blushes when her mom pushes her forward to congratulate me and more. There's got to be at least 15 people here, all chatting and smiling, shaking my hand, and when I'm not paying attention, ruffling my hair with a grin. Aunt Aiko is there too, but she seems distracted by Akira's crying so I just nod a greeting.

"Nice job, kid. You've awakened it earlier than anyone except for Itachi or Shisui. Took me a lot longer," Inabi says. I feel a rush of pride, the unspoken confirmation of my abilities. He's not as cool as Itachi, but he's a police officer like my father, and was a Tokebtsu Jounin before that.

"Thanks. I won my spar with Hinata Hyuuga today really fast. I'll be a police officer in no time." I say. He bumps by fist, and makes his way over to my dad, leaning in to talk quietly. Its nice to see my family around me. The clan has been stressed lately—father says the police caseload has been higher than usual—but here everyone looks happy, dressed in their finest kimonos, and snacking away at the food mother has prepared.

A hand pokes my side, and I can't help the giggle, but I scowl and turn. I'm not a kid anymore! Izumi is there, smiling. She pokes my cheek, makes a funny face and I finally grin. She's nice—she always bring me tomato snacks even if everyone else thinks they're gross—but she always treats me a like a baby. I'm a little surprised to see her—usually I only see her when Itachi is around. Maybe…

"Is Itachi here, Izumi? Did he come with you? Are you with him?" I ask, trying to see if he's hiding somewhere. Now that I have my Sharingan, there's no way he'll sneak up on me!

"Nope, just me Sasuke. I can visit you without Itachi being there too, you know." She says. Is she…blushing?

"Izumi… are you blushing? You can't hide your feelings from my eyes!" I ask. He's definitely hiding somewhere if Izumi is here. It's got to be a joke they're playing. Her blush deepens, and she pretend shoves me away.

"Sasuke, stop saying that! We're just friends. " she retorts. What is she talking about? Obviously they're friends.

"So he's not hiding somewhere? I thought you and him were playing a joke on me." I say.

"Oh. I thought you meant—well, never mind that, I don't know where he is. I just wanted to wish my cute little baby Sasuke congratulations for his eyes!" she says, and I give her my fiercest look. She's making fun of me again! She spots Akira and goes after him. I sigh in relief. No more teasing. She's holding Akira now, cooing as he gurgles happily away. Aunt Aiko makes her way over to me, smiling as she sees me. With a start, I realize her right eye is covered by a patch. Has that always been there?

"Aunt Aiko, what happened to your eye?" I ask, and my voice doesn't tremble as her spinning _wrong_ eye flashes before me.

"I'm not sure, Sasuke. I must have strained it somehow. I'll be going to a medic soon enough, but I wanted to be here for the ceremony. I'm sure it'll be fine." she says, her smile tightening, and I regret bringing it up. It must be embarrassing to have to cover one's eye.

We chat about Akira for a minute before Father's voice booms out. Everyone quiets down, and I approach him, kneeling in front of him on the mat. The ceremony begins.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

As clan head, father leads the ceremony. My Sharingan blazes to life to follow everything closely, so I see every careful gesture and solemn pose. He lights the brazier with a fiery puff, puts two sticks of incense in the coals, and settles down to tell our story, legs carefully crossed. I've heard it before at other ceremonies, but now it's my turn respond, so I listen carefully. Father speaks slowly and reverently:

 _Some speak of a goddess come to earth, of a moon that gazed and judged ma_ _n, but in truth, the world was born in war, war so fierce and long and bloody that we know nothing of what came before. There are 5 eras that we Uchiha know of:_

 _The first era was Naraka. The world was torn by strife and violence, by murder and by fear. It burned all those who passed through, froze and shattered their spirits, and all dreamt of its passing._

 _The second era was Preta. In this world all went hungry and thirsted eternally. No food could grow, no rain would fall, and all dreamt of its passing._

 _The third era was Tiryag. None thought or planned—they only moved and acted upon instinct, as animals. All dreamt of surpassing it._

 _When humanity woke from its long dreams, it was born into Asura. The Sage who woke us gave humanity two gifts: that which is, and that which can be._

 _We call them thus: the strength and the form, the Sun and the Moon, and Physical and Spiritual energy._

 _While the time of Asura was beautiful, it was filled with passions and hatred, war and battle. The Senju and the Uchiha, the most powerful of the clans, formed the Village of the Leaf, and as the rest of the world followed, the world became human._

 _So it has been told to me by Kenta Uchiha, the clan head before me, and so it was said by Indra before all of us._

That was the story of the Uchiha, the story of my clan. It had always been eerie but now, as my new eyes took everything in, it seemed to take on new life. I had heard it so many times before now, and as the newest clan member, it was my turn to recite after my father:

"As you have dreamt, and others dreamt, I dream of… " and I paused, momentarily unsure. A second, then two, pass. No one interrupted me, though everyone was staring. Even little Akira seemed to understand the solemn nature of the ceremony.

"I dream of a strong and healthy clan in a strong and healthy village, and with my strength I shall make that dream into reality." I say. The final words are traditional—only the beginning is my own.

My father and mother give me nods, and though they look serious, there's a smile underneath it all. I'm buzzing with pride, and I keep my posture as straight as possible as the rest of the full members recite the pledges they made so long ago. The rest of the clan files out eventually, nodding to me, and I wait until only father, mother, and I remain.

"Sasuke, I'm proud of you and your pledge" father says, and my mom nods as well, "but there's one more step to take before you're a full member of the clan." He locks eyes with me, and squares his shoulders, as if preparing himself.

"The Naka shrine holds the secrets of our eyes. Watch carefully." He approaches the seventh tatami mat, pulls it away. His hands move through seals slow enough for me copy, and the floor opens up. We enter a passage, its walls carved with fantastical images. We move quickly enough that I don't see the whole narrative but I make out scattered images: an old man with hands upon two kneeling children, two men facing off in battle, the landscape ravaged around them, and the Uchiha crest and tomoe scattered throughout. The passage darkens as we move further in and father breaths upon a candle on the wall. At the end of the hall where the passage opens into a large room, there's a stone tablet.

Mother and father gesture me forward.

"Gaze upon it carefully with your eyes, Sasuke."

I stare at it and with a strangle ripple, some of the words sharpen and focus in my vision:

 _The eyes that approach truth give birth to insight and understanding._

 _But know this: your eyes are born from fear of loss,_

 _Strengthen further if what's most dear is cost._

 _These are the blessings of the twisting eye_

 _one in each and both combined_

 _will bring forth a warrior divine_

 _But such power demands a price,_

 _And your vision shall be the sacrifice_

The tablet is talking about the Sharingan, but I've never heard of people going blind from it. Is there really another form of the Sharingan? I've never heard of it. My father gestures for me to take a seat, and we all sit down.

"Sasuke, the Sharingan is the Uchiha clan's most famous ability. But it is merely one part of our true nature. Can you guess what that is?" my mother asks. She's staring at me, her own Sharingan trained on my own. I've never seen her so serious. What could she mean? If the Sharingan comes from fear, as the tablet says, then maybe the Uchiha are a clan whose strength comes from fear?

"Maybe…we're a clan of fear. When we're very scared, we awaken our eyes, and when something really bad does happen, we awaken it further." I say, uncertain.

Mother seems disappointed, somehow.

"Not quite. While it's true that fear is the trigger, what causes the fear in the first place?" she says. I wrack my brain.

"Maybe…weakness? Or being unable to do anything?" I say. Mother frowns, as if disappointed. What did I do wrong? Father puts his hand up, and takes over.

"You aren't wrong, Sasuke, and many in the clan might agree with you," he says, and continues "but a true Uchiha awakens his eyes when protecting someone he loves. The fear of losing someone precious to you is far greater than any fear for one's self. Just as our eyes are strong, our passions are strong. Only an Uchiha who loves deeply can see deeply."

Father and mother rest their hands on my shoulders as I take in their words. For a moment I'm struck by a gruesome image of mother and father lying dead in a shadowed room, and in that brief instant I understand their words. If I didn't love them so much, I wouldn't be so terrified at the thought of losing them. And yet, they haven't explained the rest of the tablet.

"But…that only explains the Sharingan. The tablet says that there's a second stage to the Sharingan, a stronger level. What is it?" I say.

Father locks eyes with me and his eyes twist, forming a three-pronged shuriken with three dots around it. His eyes look strained, somehow, and mother breathes out sharply at the sight of it.

"This is the Mangekyo Sharingan. If the Sharingan embodies the hope of saving someone you love, this is failure." he says, and his hands clench into fists. He closes his eyes and his normal Sharingan appears again. "They are a cursed eye—continued use drives the user blind. However, they are immensely powerful. "

My parents stand abruptly, and help me up. I'm still a bit shocked from the events of tonight, from the secrets of my clan, so I barely notice our movement till we're about to exit the secret passage. Father stops, looks at me intensely. "Sasuke, my eyes were born from the horror of the 3rd war. My failures then ensured that I'd have the ability to protect you from anything in the future. But no one in our clan ought to know of them. Tell no one. If they knew…"

I nod, speechless. I'm going to need a couple of days to process everything. We walk silently back home, none of us in the mood for talking. My ceiling fan spins in a blur, and then clarifies as my Sharingan turns on. On and off, on and off, I stare at it till the rest of the noise in the house ceases. Everyone's asleep but something is keeping me awake. What could I have dreamt of that would have made me so scared? Had I been killed in my dream? Or been protecting my family? It was all so blurry that I could barely recall fragments of black and red, of running through shadowed streets.

I try to cheer myself up by thinking of the things I can do now that I have the Sharingan. Dad might teach me some tricks—mom too, if I can drag her away from house. But somehow, the usual things I daydream of just don't catch my interest. I can think only of the stone tablet and my parent's words. What would I do if someone I loved was in danger? Or…and now my breath catches in my chest, if someone I cared about was hurt in front of me? Would I have the strength to save them? Maybe I didn't have to, at least not yet. I still had time to grow stronger before I had to fight for my clan.

I'm up at dawn again, rubbing sleep from my eyes as I work off some energy. I'm still thinking of what I learned yesterday and I didn't sleep all that well. The target posts are farther than usual but I haven't tried throwing kunai since awakening the Sharingan. One at a time I let them fly and they sink into the bullseyes. Now two, holding each between my fingers, and they sink in as well, nearly as accurate. I need to throw faster. The morning passes in a blur of training, and I see father watching from the window. I wonder what he's thinking about.

The rest of the day feels like a repeat of yesterday. My spars are easy, the material is familiar, and I pass the time daydreaming, though Manabu-sensei has stopped trying to catch me unaware while I'm not paying attention. We're still going over the Founding of Konoha and the contributions of the Second Hokage. If there's one piece of Konoha history I've heard about from my clan it's the Nidaime—father has always referenced him with grudging respect when he talks about the Uchiha police, the academy, and the overall village structure.

I tune out Manabu-sensei and skim the textbook, trying to see if it agrees with father:

"… _and elaborated upon Hashirama's and Madara's vision. While they had dreamed, founded, and named the village, Tobirama introduced the policies that transformed the village from a collection of clans into a cohesive whole. While he died one year into the First Shinobi World War (see pg. 156 for the controversy surrounding his death) his legacy as the sensei of the 3_ _rd_ _Hokage (covered in greater detail on pg. 180) and village administrator make him important to understanding Konoha's structure. The following reforms are credited to…"_ (54)

The Nidaime was Hokage for only 5 years but he'd formed most of Konoha's currently existing institutions. With a start, I realize that even the Uchiha compound dates back to then, to shortly before the first War—in a strange way, we Uchiha have him to thank for our continued existence as a unified clan. He'd allowed the Uchiha and Hyuuga to isolate themselves on the village outskirts and given the police force to the Uchiha. I've never really been interested in history for its own sake but the recent visit to Naka shrine has made me curious. Maybe father has some books I can borrow.

Classes end for the day and I slowly make my way home, wandering through quieter alleys, jumping fences, and taking in the village on a lazy afternoon. Father is waiting for me when I reach home.

"You took the long way home, Sasuke. Now that you have your Sharingan, you'll be training after school every day. Get a snack and come outside." he says. I blush in embarrassment for making him wait, but nod and run inside. A glass of juice and sandwich later, and I'm standing in front of father, ready for training. He's never taken me this seriously.

The dim room we stand in is filled with targets to practice against, human-shaped cutouts, and scrolls stacked against the wall. I've never been here before, but I know that Itachi has spent countless hours here. I think today will be the day father treats me like he treats Itachi.

"Sasuke, the traditional training after awakening the Sharingan is in accuracy. Most ninja assume we use our Sharingan only to copy jutsu, but our true strength..." He unfurls a scroll, his hands blur, and 6 kunai are embedded in 6 targets, all dead center. "…is in augmenting what we already excel in. "

I spend hours throwing kunai and shuriken and father criticizes my technique all the while. There aren't specific jutsus for this—at least, none that father teaches me—but there are strategies he shows me. I practice only regular throwing, but I watch as he deflects kunai around obstacles to hit blindspots or surprise enemies, and controls an oversized shuriken that whip around in a wide arc with a wire that shimmers with chakra.

The room is littered with weapons by the time we're done, the targets are studded with holes, and father gives me a barely-there smile before heading for the door. "Don't forget to clean up, Sasuke." Really?! I hold back the groan till he leaves—can't have him thinking I'm just a kid—and gather the weapons.

By the time I get home its dark out and my limbs are trembling. Mother sits down with me to eat and we talk quietly about the training. She promises to teach me how to throw shuriken tomorrow, but I'm hoping that Itachi will be home by then so he can give me some tips. He's even better than my parents!

The rest of the week passes in a blur of easy classes and hard training, and I have barely any time for myself. But I can see my progress in the faster throws and proud looks my parents give me when they see me practice.

The smell of coffee wakes me earlier than usual, and I slip out of bed. It's _really_ early—I wonder why mom is making breakfast.

"Brother! You're back!" Itachi is back home! He smiles as he sees me, gestures me towards him. I won't fall for it this time! I activate my Sharingan, intent on dodging his poke when it comes. His smile disappears as my eyes turn red.

"Sasuke, how did you obtain your eyes?"

"Actually, I don't really remember. I woke up from a really scary dream about a week ago and they were like that." The bits that do come to mind are just confusing—red and black swirls, blood in the clan compound, and Shisui dying. Itachi gestures me forward.

"Let me look a little closer. I want to see something…"

His face is serious. Is something wrong? I approach him.

Poke.

"That's not fair Itachi! You're such a liar! I thought you were being serious!" I yell, and I see mother stifling giggles. I thought I would definitely dodge it this time with the Sharingan. He's still too fast—but maybe now he'll train with me…

"Itachi…will you teach me how to throw shuriken after school today? You're even better than mother and father." I say, shamelessly making the cutest face I can. He ruffles my hair, and I see the bags under his eyes. Brother looks very tired so I hastily add, "But not if you're too tired from your mission. You've got to rest too."

"Sasuke, I don't think your brother will have time to do that today," father says. He shuffles through the kitchen doorway, yawning hugely, and gives Itachi a meaningful look: "He has duties with the clan today." Itachi waits a moment before nodding.

"I'm sorry Sasuke, some other time."

For the first time in weeks we sit down for a family breakfast with everyone there. Mother gives me an omelet with a tomato smiley face for all of my hard training this week and even if father and Itachi smile in amusement, I'm too happy to feel embarrassed. Seeing us all together like this reminds me of past times with family, before Itachi was taking missions all the time and father started being so serious all the time. I wonder what's been making work at the police station so difficult for the last couple of years.

My days pass in a blur of academy lessons until the afternoons and training with mother until it gets dark. I don't see Itachi much, busy as he is with missions or clan business, or father, since he's also been spending extra time at the station. A week after Itachi gets back mother finally spars with me for the first time.

I know I'm not as strong as her but I'm still disappointed that I'm so weak that she doesn't even bother using her Sharingan. She counters my fastest blows with ease, catches my strongest punches and kicks with a light hand, and all the while explains exactly what I'm doing wrong- an overextension here, a moment of slight instability, or a blow I can't dodge because I'm too infexible. After the spar, as I'm hunched over panting, she hugs me tight, kneeling on my level. We pause for a second, and she straightens out. She gives me an apologetic smile.

"Sasuke, you'll have to start training your body specifically in addition to sparring. Tomorrow morning you'll train with your cousin before school."

I'm torn between a whine and a cheer. On the one hand I'll be waking up super early; on the other hand, this means my family is taking my training really seriously! I'll make them proud! The next morning I'm ushered out the door hours before I'm usually up. Cousin Isamu is 11, 3 years older than me, and I see him sometimes at the academy. He isn't at the top of his class like I am—something that his parents like to bring up when we dine at his house- but he's faster and stronger than me, something he demonstrates over and over in our first session. We race each other to and from a training post, go through a series of calisthenics, and more until I'm trembling with each movement. He sneers at me as I pause to rest—even though I bet he wasn't this good when he was my age!—and jumps back into handstands and exercises on a set of exercise rings. We end by drilling punches and kicks on a series of wooden dummies, and our bodies, strengthened by our chakra, make visible dents by the time we're finished.

Isamu tosses me a bottle of water as I walk back home, and yells after me "Hope I didn't scare you away Sasuke! See ya tomorrow baby cousin!" I make the rudest gesture I know at him, giggle at his face, and as fast as my tired legs can take me, run back home to change. With minutes to spare I get to the academy, half exhausted before classes even start, and yawn widely. The class settles down, a couple of stragglers like Naruto wandering in right as class starts, and as Manabu-sensei enters, the room quiets completely. In large print she writes **Konoha's Important Factions** , and begins her lecture.

"Yesterday we went over all the powerful clans Konoha is home to, and today we'll be asking each person to volunteer to describe their clan" she says, and I mentally cheer. This class will be easy—perfect for resting my eyes, relaxing a little- not napping!- after such an early workout. I manage to rest through most of it unbothered by our teacher until she yells at Shikamaru. With a guilty wince, I realize that like him, I've been tuning out the entire class. He stands up, not bothering to straighten out of his permanent slouch. Manabu-sensei looks at him expectantly.

"I'm part of the Nara clan. Our clan specializes in shadow jutsu which are useful for capturing opponents." He sighs as sensei raises an eyebrow, gesturing for him to continue. "We joined Konoha early on together with the Yamanaka and Akimichi clan, and maintain one of the village's shrines." Chouji and Ino wave their hands wildly as their clan names are called, grinning. With my incredible and in-depth knowledge of my classmates—mostly the fact that Shikamaru never volunteers for anything unless he's forced to—I realize I'm next. I stand, clear my throat, and sensei nods at me.

"I'm part of the Uchiha clan. We're known for our Sharingan, " and now my eyes turn red and I make eye contact with everyone "and our fire jutsu! Along with the Senju, we founded Konoha!" I say, and for once, as sensei smiles at me and the rest of the class stares at my eyes I can feel the warmth of pride without any comparison to Itachi on my mind. I'm in the strongest family of the strongest clan of the strongest village. Life is good.

The weeks pass quicker than ever, and before I know it, it's been 3 weeks since I've awakened my eyes. By now the constant training is routine, but I've begged a couple of training sessions with Itachi here and there that liven things up. I still can't manage the deadly kunai deflection trick he shows me but at least now I can see the logic of it, my Sharingan showing me each collision in clear detail. He smiles as gently as usual, but brother has been weirdly distant lately, something that reminds me of that weird dream of a couple weeks ago. For some reason I've had trouble forgetting it. I don't remember all that much except twisting eyes, the blood of my clan, and a sense of foreboding when I think of Shisui. He's been so busy lately…

"Sasuke, pay attention!" mother says, and I realize abruptly that I'm distracted. I mutter an apology and attack once again, concentrating on landing a hit. Some days I'm positive I'm improving by leaps and bounds—but then my mother casually steps around my attacks and kindly points out my flaws and I feel like a 7-year old all over again. After several infuriating minutes of mother easily dodging around me she stops the spar, frowning at me.

"Sasuke, you're very distracted today," she says and sits at eye-level with me. She brings me in for a hug, ruffles my hair despite my pretend-pout, and looks at me in the eye.

"What's wrong? What's got you distracted, Sasuke?" she asks.

I grin weakly. It's hard to look her in the eyes. I really don't want to tell her what's wrong, it's just a bad dream and I should be old enough to forget about it. But then she pokes my cheeks and I relent: "Mother, it's just…that dream I had, the one that awakened my Sharingan. I…can't stop thinking about it. " I'm gratified that she doesn't laugh at me. She pulls me to her, and I let her hug me to her chest. Somehow, not looking at her makes this easier. "I don't remember what happened, exactly. But the clan…it was dead and there was lots of blood everywhere. I…don't want that to happen."

Mercifully, mother doesn't say anything for a long moment, so I have time to wipe my tears away and pretend she doesn't see them.

"Do you remember the ceremony, Sasuke?" she says, and I nod. "Your father and I told you that the strength of an Uchiha comes from fear of losing someone we love. We have been blessed by the Sage to love more deeply than any other clan, but that love is risky. Whenever we open ourselves up to it," and she ruffles my hair and holds my hands tight "we allow for the possibility of loss. It hurts more than you can imagine, but we can't have one without the other." I hug her tight. Her words are scary. "There's no shame in fearing loss, but as an Uchiha, your duty is to use that fear as your strength, and overcome it. The blood of our clan demands it. "

We sit for brief minutes before mother tugs me to my feet.

"Now, Sasuke, there's a clan meeting in a couple hours. You're not a genin yet, so you'll be staying at home. I expect you in bed by the time we get back. " I nod, briefly annoyed that at the exclusion from clan matters, and we walk back home, done with training earlier than usual. My mother's words are echoing inside me, and I make a resolution: I'll never let my fear stop me! With my confidence restored, I shower briefly and settle down to finish my Konoha geography homework. The first question:

 _Originating in the southern regions of the Land of Fire, the deepest river in Konoha is the Naka River. The first meeting between Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha took place on it, though outside of the current village boundaries and the river itself features prominently in the Fire Temple's account of the Sage's travels. Describe the river's path through the village and explain its importance_.

I pause. That river reminds me of my dream… Shisui had drowned in this river! I'd dreamt that they'd found a suicide note, but then the police had accused Itachi of killing him. Huh. That part of the dream is obviously crazy because everyone knows Itachi and Shisui are best friends, but it makes me realize that Shisui _has_ looked worn out whenever I've seen him. Maybe my dream was my mind's way of telling me to watch out for him? I'll go check on him just in case!

I slip on sandals before I can persuade myself out of my idea, tell my mother I'll be back in a bit, and rush off to Shisui's house. He lives near the outskirts of the compound but I've been to his house enough times with Itachi—though not recently—that I know the route well. It's a short sprint to the main street of the compound, a thrilling detour to the roofs to avoid running into the younger kids playing games on the street (more like an excuse to test my new speed, I admit to myself,) and I stop to pick up a treat for Shisui. I use the pocket money mother gives me every morning to pick up some taiyaki, a snack filled with custard that looks like a cutout of a fish. They're pretty gross, but Shisui has always been my awesome but weird cousin.

Back on to the roofs, a quick hop over the electrical wire, and I land with a loud grunt as I leap from the second floor to the ground. Mother's taught me to be polite—its rude to enter a ninja's house through the window—so I knock politely. Shisui opens the door in his full set of gear, sword strapped to his back, and he rocks back in surprise.

"Sasuke. What are you doing here?" he says, and though he smiles like usual I can make out the bags under his eyes. I pout, disappointed in his reaction. Clearly my dreams were right—I'm here to save Shisui from boredom or sadness or crazy rivers!

"Here's your favorite treat. I came to say hi!" I say, and I push my way in to see if I can see Shisui's sword, not giving him a chance to respond. "Also I got my Sharingan and you never trained me like you promised and I wanted to see how my favorite cousin was doing!"

I take a breath. He grins at me, puts his fist out to bump.

"Thanks for the treat! We've got the clan meeting tonight so not tonight, but I'll train with you soon. Even though you have your Sharingan, don't think you can beat your super fast cousin just yet!"

My eyes turn red and I try to bump fists with my new speed. I can't fail—I've been training all month! He laughs as I miss, his hands blurring aside to flick my ear. He's still so fast!

I sit at his kitchen table and I tell him of the last month, of my Sharingan, and the training I'm doing. Even though it's been months since I've spoken to him, Shisui and I fall into easy conversation. He quizzes me on the academy subjects I'm learning and we share a laugh over my classmates: Naruto, who never lets a fight go by without loud bragging; Shikamaru, who once slept through recess; and Kiba, who had gotten pissed on by Akamaru after accidentally stepping on his tail. It had taken a whole week for the class to smell normal again.

It's getting late. We finish up our snacks and I reluctantly get up to leave, feeling the lingering urge to stay and chat but knowing that the clan meeting is not far off. Shisui locks the door, and claps me on the shoulder.

"Sasuke, it was great to see you. I'll see you soon, okay?" I nod, and before I lose my confidence, I speak up.

"Shisui, I know this is gonna sound weird, but I had a really scary dream that you'd get hurt tonight, so I want you to be careful." I try to look as serious as I can. He grins, and bumps fists with me, not tricking me this time.

"I promise, little cousin. See ya!" He vanishes, his speed making him completely invisible even to the Sharingan. I set off for home, basking in the nice warm feeling of seeing family, and taking in the quiet buzz of the compound as many head for the Naka Shrine. I'm not a genin, so I can't go yet, but I dream of the day that I can enter the shrine as a truly respected Uchiha, stand with my father and brother, my mother and my cousins, and be an important part of the clan.

 **AN:**

 **All feedback and comments welcome—as well as reviews :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Blessings of the Twisting Eye**

 **Chapter 3**

Saturday mornings are my favorite day of the week. I don't have to train early today so I take my time getting out bed, brushing my teeth, and putting on shorts. I'm not thinking of doing anything in particular, but maybe I can talk Izumi and Itachi into going for dango with me. I haven't gotten the chance to talk with either of them in weeks, other than hasty training sessions with Itachi. I pad as quiet as I can to the dining room. Maybe I can surprise Itachi if he's there already.

Mother and him are sitting quietly, their backs to the hall, and the smell of coffee . As quick as I can, I jump, hoping to poke Itachi's forehead as I pass by him. A blur of limbs and Itachi is sitting on top of me, eyebrow raised.

"I was trying to poke your forehead, Itachi. You know, since you do it to me all the time…" I say, trying not to giggle. Mother sighs in exasperation, and grabs my feet. No. She can't be! I squirm to try and get free, but to no avail. Itachi's grip is inescapable. She stops tickling me after I turn red, and Itachi and mother finally let me up. "No fair, big brother! You can't team up on me!" I stick my tongue out at Itachi, and get some coffee going for myself. I really don't like the taste, but all the older Uchiha drink it, especially the Police Force, so I need to learn how to drink it. Maybe there's a secret to it, some sort of trick to making it taste good.

I take a seat across from brother and blow the rim of my cup. I wonder…if I can breathe fire, shouldn't I be able to drink some coffee now without any trouble? I take a larger sip than usual to test my theory. Oww! That didn't work. Mother and Itachi both raise an eyebrow this time.

"What?! It's a ….chakra control exercise. I promise!" It is, isn't it? Maybe no one had tried it before me, but even if I invented it, it's still true. We sit awhile longer in relative quiet. Father must have worked late last night to still be sleeping. I keep up my smile on the outside but inside I'm confused. Itachi usually smiles wider at my jokes, and he looks even more tired than usual. He must have stayed out late last night to be this tired. I'm torn between asking him to train with me and letting him rest. He does look like he needs a distraction…

"Brother, if you're not too tired, do you want to train with me? You can even nap in the forest instead of demonstrating if you want!" I ask. He finally smiles at me, but it still feels off. He looks…frail, somehow, which isn't something I'm used to seeing on Itachi's face. Mother looks pleased, and says "Boys, if you wait 15 minutes, I'll pack you a lunch." I beam at her, grateful. Her sandwiches are the _best_. I dash into my room to pick out a scroll full of kunai and shuriken, a roll of ninja wire, and my softest pillow in case Itachi wants to nap. I'm an awesome brother to Itachi!

The stretch of forest near our home isn't technically off limits to the rest of the clan but since it's so close to Naka Shrine, most of the clan doesn't train there. Because of that our training is strangely quiet: only the rapid and staccato rhythm of kunai finding their target, perfect every time, breaks through the forest sounds. I can match Itachi's accuracy with my Sharingan when he moves at a slow speed, but even with my new eyes, I can't even approach his blazing fast hand speed. Somehow, in the time it takes me to throw a single kunai he's thrown a dozen in a dozen separate targets. I can't even see his hands move and I know he's barely trying.

My brother is _fast_. Even as I've gotten closer to matching Cousin Isamu in sprints (I can usually win our spars when I use the Sharingan) part of me sees the gap—no, the massive gulf—between my brother and I. I love knowing that he's strong, that our clan and village are protected by ninja like him, but another part of me…is jealous. I push that feeling away, pasting a smile on. Being jealous when Itachi is having a rare day off and spending it with me—I can't do that. Itachi lies back against a protruding root, closes his eyes. I grip my kunai. Maybe I should try something else.

His speed isn't something I can learn in a day, I know that, but maybe I can pick up the kunai deflection trick today. I close my eyes, thinking back to the last time I've seen it. It's a jump at least 20 feet up, three kunai in each hand, thrown at a 30 degree spacing. I can do that, even if I'm not as fast as Itachi. Then, about 2/3 of the way there, the deflection: two kunai that strike the first two thrown kunai at precisely the right angle to deflect them into targets located blind spots. The idea is to get good enough to use in battle to surprise an enemy—not something I'm capable of at the moment, but the exercise is good practice.

I'm ready. I spread the kunai on my hands and take off running. I spring onto the rock in the center of the clearing, my eyes already red, and push off hard. I throw the six kunai perfectly and at the apex of my jump as I twist around I throw the next two. Success! They hit the other kunai right on target and with a satisfying simultaneous clang they all land. I'm aware enough to stick the landing and as I double check to make sure I've hit the targets, I feel proud. I know I'm still far from my brother, but one day I'll be able to stand with him as an equal, to help him and our clan with our dreams.

That kind of success demands celebration! I race to Itachi's resting form, and tell him.

"Itachi! Guess what?" I don't let him answer. "I got all 8 targets. Wanna get some watame to celebrate?" Itachi smiles through sleepy eyes and nods. We take a roundabout way towards the village that doesn't actually pass through the clan compound to get to the watame shop, and though I try to keep our conversation light-hearted, I can't help but sense Itachi's distance. He isn't acting normal. Usually he'd be pretty quiet, but still ask me about my day, about the academy. Today he smiles and nods when I face him but otherwise is withdrawn. Maybe he's had scary dreams about Shisui too. They are such good friends…

"Itachi, are you also worried about Shisui?" I ask, looking at him carefully. His hands tighten, but his voice when he responds is level.

"No. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I talked to him yesterday and he seemed happy. A little tired though," I say, "just like you. You're both working too hard! Can't you ask the Hokage for a break?" Itachi's hands relax. We move quickly through quiet residential streets, street vendors just now opening up for the day. He doesn't speak for several blocks.

"I talked to him because," and now I hesitate. I told mother, but telling Itachi is somehow harder, as if I don't want to show him I was scared of a dream. "I talked to him because my dream, the one that awakened my Sharingan, Shisui was in it, and he had died. I thought maybe it was telling me something." Itachi doesn't miss a step in shock, but its close. He looks at me with red eyes. "Is something wrong, brother?"

"Sasuke, I'm glad you talked to him. I haven't seen him recently but I'm happy you saw him." Itachi's voice is perfectly normal, but my brotherly instincts are telling me something is wrong. Itachi doesn't usually sound like that with me. His voice is softer, always gentle, and occasionally teasing. This clear distant voice…it doesn't sound like my brother. Maybe I'm just overthinking things. We fall in line by the watame vendor, already busy spinning his candy as the sun climbs overhead. I've always loved watching watame being made. It's a beautiful pale red, soft and fluffy when its done, but it starts off as just a stick touching a spinning metal bowl. Now I can see the gossamer strands gleaming as they spin and the slow gathering of fluff, more and more adding on the ball grows larger. I giggle when the vender presents it to me with a flourish. She's nice.

Itachi grabs one too and we set off back towards home. Along the way we pass by the academy and I'm tempted to tell Itachi about school. But he's acting so strange that I don't think he wants to hear about that right now so I keep my stories to myself. Last week had been fun: since only Hinata was any good at sparring with me, we'd gotten matched up two days in a row. I liked her. She was quiet, not at all like Naruto, and especially when she activated her Byakugan, was a pretty good fighter. I felt a little guilty thinking of her, though, since during our last spar I had hit harder than I'd intended, and she'd ended up scraping her knees and palms up pretty bad. I had apologized immediately, walked her over to the nurse station in the academy building and even gotten her some snacks after school to apologize, but she hadn't said much except a quiet thanks. Did that mean she hated me? Or maybe she was just quiet? Izumi would probably know…

* * *

I'm showering almost before I know I'm in the house, having daydreamed most of the way home. I shrug on a pair of shorts, grab some of my homework, and arrange a cushion on our porch. I'll try to finish most of it before night, maybe mother and father can teach me a fire jutsu tonight.

 _The founding of Konoha depended crucially upon the Warring Clan tradition of never giving one's surname unless asked. Explain, and compare this to the current practice of village headbands_ :

 **Hashirama and Madara, the two founders of Konoha did not know each other's surnames, which meant that they could be friends even though their families were mortal enemies. Nowadays we use headbands that ensure each….**

 _Choose a shinobi rule and explain why it is important._

" **No plan is ever followed exactly in battle, but no battle is won without a plan." #6 This rule addresses the importance of planning ahead but also remaining flexible to take advantage of new opportunities.**

 _Describe the benefits and costs to jumping in a shinobi battle. Outline a scenario in which such a maneuver would be wise_

 **Jumping lets you escape enemy attacks and get a better perspective, but leaves you hanging in the air for too long, which makes you a target. If an enemy has a technique that strikes low to the ground, or if there are multiple objects blocking your view from the ground, jumping would be a good maneuver.**

I steadily make my way through the questions. They take time to complete even if they're easy, so I finish each question as quick as I can. Do people really struggle with this homework? It seems common sense to me. I hear a group of men walking over and see three Uchiha police approaching. Huh. Are they here for dad? I don't think he's here, I think he's at the station. I stand and wave at them, and they nod back, oddly restrained.

"Sasuke, is your brother home?" Uncle Tekka asks.

"I think so. Do you need his help on something?" I say, getting up to go get him. Tekka nods, and I make my way to Itachi's room. Before I can knock, his door opens, and Itachi is standing there in his clan outfit, hair tousled from a nap. I tell him the police are here and he nods at me, avoiding eye contact.

I'd better give them some room if its serious—I don't want them to think I'm spying on them. I grab my homework, threading my way through the four of them, and head to my room. On second thought…I make my way silently to the front door, aching to hear what they're talking about. I hate not knowing what the grownups are up to.

A muffled argument, Itachi's voice ringing loud and oddly familiar:

"the clan, the clan, the clan! All you talk about is the clan! I'm sick of it. The clan will fester and rot if this continues. We cannot live in our past and dream of faded glory without losing sight in the present." This is impossible. It sounds far too familiar, as if I've heard it before in a dream. I push the door open and freeze at the sight.

Tekka and Inabi are lying on the street groaning, and in a brief moment Itachi has defeated the third policeman. Itachi isn't even scratched. What's happened?!

"Itachi! Uncles! What are you doing? Stop fighting!" I yell, and I sprint into the street, eyes red. When Itachi catches sight of me, he freezes, forces himself to relax. A gruff voice echoes me.

"What happened?" father says, his own eyes spinning to life.

Tekka picks himself off the floor. He isn't wounded but he looks plenty dusty and a little embarrassed.

"Fugaku, sir, your son attacked us when we asked questions about Shisui's death. "

No. This can't be. My nightmare is coming true. My nails are drawing blood from my palms and distantly I realize I'm yelling.

"No. I saw Shisui yesterday night. He " and my voice breaks. It's not fair. I spoke to him just yesterday, how could he be dead? "Cousin can't be dead. I warned him about my dream!" I continue, and everyone looks uncomfortable with my screams. I know I'm acting like a child but I don't care. This isn't possible.

Inabi looks at me sympathetically, opens his mouth as if to say something, and I shake my head. I need to get away. Away I walk, heading to train, and the voices fade away soon after. Feeling wood crunch beneath knuckles, feeling the sharp pain of splinters digging in with every punch, and through it all my eyes see clearer than ever. After having lost myself in a haze of angry training, the fatigue I feel in my arms is an unwelcome reminder of the real world. Slumped against a tree I think of my cousin, of our times together.

He'd always been Itachi's friend more than mine, but he'd taught me so much. We'd pranked Itachi with a bucket of mud once, Shisui setting up the tripwire and my cutest face gaining Itachi's trust. It had been worth it even if my dad had frowned in disapproval at the mud we tracked all over the house. Then I think of the races I'd refereed between him and Itachi, Shisui outrunning him with a grin everytime. I sniff, feeling the tears track my face through the sweat and grime. Through the disorientation an even darker thought arises: if my dream about Shisui came true, does that mean the rest of the dream will happen as well?

I train harder than ever after Shisui's death. When I'm not in the academy or eating I'm training with Isamu or practicing my throwing on my own. Mother says she's too busy to spar this week—I think she's in charge of making clan arrangements for Shisui's body. Something will happen in the next week. I don't know what, exactly, but I need to prepare, so do the only thing I know how, and train. I can't exactly warn father or mother of anything: the only thing I know is that I'm filled with foreboding when I think of the future or Itachi.

* * *

The tension in my chest reaches a fever pitch on Friday. As usual I run home, sure that any day, something will happen and that if I'm near home I can protect mother and father. The sun is still in the sky as I make my way through the compound, trying to see if anything strange is happening. Everything looks normal, but I hurry home anyways. I strap on my kunai, pick up my weapons pouch, and make my way to the tallest roof in the compound, settling in for a long wait. I've been spending the late afternoons here, watching the compound as closely as I can, and telling the police that wave to me that I'm practicing to be part of the force.

After long minutes surveying the area even my determination can't keep me still. I go through a series of stretches, some pushups, trying to loosen up and keep alert. A cough interrupts my routine, and I whirl around to see Izumi standing beside me, her hand covering her mouth. She giggles. I scowl. This is serious.

"Are you a police officer now?" she asks.

"I'm not in the mood for kidding around, Izumi." I say, straightening my posture and not letting a hint of a smile onto my face. Izumi sits beside me, letting her feet dangle over the edge of the roof. She's still wearing her ninja gear—she must have just returned from training or a mission.

"Hey, " she says, her voice soft, "is this about Shisui?"

"I. Maybe. I just have a bad feeling about today." I say. Should I really tell her it's all because of a dream? She puts her arm around me and I don't pull away.

"Look, I'm sad too. It's okay to be sad. But that's no reason to avoid everyone, especially your brother. We all miss him. " What can I tell her? The only person I've said a sentence too this week is Isamu, and only to tell him I'll win our race next time. Everything that's happened…its left me on edge and terse, even feeling guilty because a small part of me is wondering if Itachi had something to do with Shisui's death. The way he acted when I'd brought him up, the way he attacked the police, it all points to something I haven't voiced out loud until now. I pick up a piece of tile, toss it from hand to hand.

"Izumi…there's something I've been thinking about." I pause, fighting hard to say this. "Itachi…I think he did it. When I saw him that day, he was acting so strange, so different."

Izumi's hand tightens on my shoulder, relaxes. She strokes my hair.

"I know there have been some rumors like that. The clan, its saying all kinds of crazy things." She turns to me, looks me in the eye. "But your brother is the kindest person I've ever met." Her smile is so tender when she speaks of him that I feel awkward even seeing it. "He's never cruel or mean, he always cares so deeply about everyone. The only time I've seen him get angry is when he sees a bully. " That's all true. She keeps speaking, the words coming faster, "and your brother would never hurt Shisui. They're practically brothers. I know you're confused right now, Sasuke, but trust me, Itachi is the last person that would ever hurt someone."

I nod at her, and the reasons why I suspected him are revealed as nothing more than vague feelings. Suspecting my brother of such a thing, on nothing but feelings…I'm a terrible brother. We sit like that awhile longer, just watching the sunset, and then Izumi asks me how the academy and training are going. I appreciate the distraction, so I launch into my stories, telling her of my long winning streak in academy spars, my daily races with Isamu, and my recent success with the 8 kunai trick. More reluctantly, after a lengthy interrogation period consisting of Izumi's pout, I divulge the biggest puzzle of all: if Hinata Hyuuga hates me for hurting her in a spar. Izumi bursts out laughing, scaring a couple of circling crows away, and reassures me that I haven't made a mortal enemy quite yet.

It's getting dark and I get up to go home. We both stretch, and as I straighten up I hear a faint scream that echoes through the quiet compound. Izumi and I turn in that direction and our hands go to our weapons. More yells, a cut off scream. My dream was right. As if in a trance we both take off, heading by the roofs. Izumi stays next to me, both of our eyes red and scanning the streets. There! Through the blood spattered window of a nearby house I glimpse a shadow that disappears in an instant. He's so fast.

Izumi grabs me, tugs me towards another house and we hear another cry, see another flicker of too-fast killing. Whoever this is, they're killing faster than we can follow, but we have to try something. If they're faster than either us, maybe the police force can help.

"Help, anyone! There's a murderer. Come quick!" I yell, as loud I can, and Izumi screams as well. Nothing. No police appear. Where could they be? We keep moving, trying to catch up to the murderer. I ready my kunai, grip them tight, and see Izumi do the same. A whoosh of air from his rapid movement is the only sign I sense, but already he's finished off another house. We can't catch him, the police aren't responding, and he's killing more and more us. My breaths come shorter and shorter as I remember more and more of my dream. The faint memories are resolving into clear images but they can't be real, they just can't.

"We need to regroup. My parents should still be at home. Together, we're sure to stop him." I say. Izumi looks torn for a moment, then nods. "I'll go with you. My mom, " she looks down, "she'll be okay." We race off to my home, moving faster than I've ever gone. We near my house and I hear Izumi breathe in sharply—she also sees the open door. No. They have to be alright! Mother and father are among the strongest in the clan. I yell for them, and with no response, push into their bedroom. They look peaceful there, lying on top of each other; they're even smiling.

Beside me I feel Izumi slumping to the ground next to me, shaking but holding me to her as if to protect me. My eyes show me my parents clearer than ever but I don't need them to know that when I look up, my brother will be standing in the doorway, watching, a bloody sword in hand. From the beginning of this second nightmare I've known what I'll find, even if I've been repressing it. My beloved older brother is the murderer of our clan. My dream is coming back to me, not just bits and pieces. Somehow my previous failure gives me the strength to rise.

I stand and clench my kunai, so far beyond rage that my hands are steady.

"Itachi." I say, and I wonder at its steadiness. Without another word I push off at him, my right hand leading with a kunai. I don't even see him move—in a blurred moment I'm pressed against the ground, both hands twisted painfully behind my back. I squirm, even as I feel my shoulder give at the unnatural angle, but he merely pulls my arms till I scream and still.

I hear Izumi whisper.

"Itachi…why?"

I twist to try and see this. Its different than before, than my dream. The pressure lets off and I watch as Itachi turns to Izumi. She looks at him, and after seconds, slumps over. Tears roll down her face, but her smile is as tender and happy as I've ever seen it.

"Itachi…you are truly kind."

No. What is she talking about? Again I attack, this time jumping back and letting 4 kunai fly as fast I can. My shoulders ache with the throws but I ignore it to grab another kunai and push off towards Itachi, hoping to catch him as he deflects my thrown kunai. He barely seems to move, but somehow the kunai all miss at point blank range, Itachi flowing around them or deflecting with no visible effort. I'm close behind the projectiles, stab overhand and meet his gaze as he traps it with his blade. His Sharingan is twisted, a 3 pronged shuriken that's spinning. I awake in a red and black world. I scream.

* * *

My fan spins slow and clear to my eyes and the calendar on the wall shows the beginning of the month. Last time I awoke with a scream, but this time I wake wet with sweat, quiet. I sit up, glance at the mirror. My eyes have two tomoe now. If what seems to be happening is true, then I have a chance to save my clan. Some sort of jutsu, far beyond any I've heard of, has thrown me back to the beginning of the month. Abruptly my heart speeds up as I think of my last hours in this house. I grit my teeth and clench my fists, fighting to keep calm. It doesn't matter that the last 72 hours I can remember are a black and red massacre, a grisly loop that never seemed to end. As long as I can stop this, and I think of the first massacre, finally clear in my head, and Aunt Aiko's parting words, "Save us," I can, no, I _must_ do this.

Quiet as I can I open my window and clamber out of my room, notebook and pencil in hand. My favorite spot to think, the place where I trained my Fireball jutsu with father, is nice and fresh this morning, and just barely bright enough for me to write in. For long minutes I stare at the paper, unwilling to write down the most important fact. Itachi needs to die. Any other task I could do with no hesitation, but my older brother, my caretaker—can I really bury my heart long enough to kill him?

"You're awake early." I scramble up, and meet father's gaze. My father's corpse, slung over mother's, flashes before me. On impulse I hug him, tightening my arms around him, glad to see him and escape the inexorable conclusion. After a couple of seconds I let go, trying not to meet his gaze. The desire to be mature wars with simple overwhelming relief at seeing him whole and healthy in front of me and my inner child wins.

"Did you have a bad dream?" If only he knew.

"Something like that. Look." My eyes open red, and father gives me a searching look. Before he asks I face the water and weave through signs, breathing in air and breathing out fire. It roars over the quiet waters and leaves steam in its wake. The same smile as before, pride and expectation mingled in equal parts, and the same aftermath as before: the ceremony will be held tonight. The day passes like a dream. Fierce joy envelopes me as I walk through a living compound, hug my mother as she makes me breakfast and drink in the sights of a thriving bustling clan, my extended family.

It doesn't hit me until my family is staring at me, waiting for my response to the ritual question. I know my destiny, I know what my duty is: "I will protect this clan, no matter what." Mother and father tell me about the Sharingan once again and Itachi's twisted eye comes to mind: Mangekyou Sharingan, eyes twisted in a fierce power. Shisui, I realize, must have been the trigger, since he was Itachi's closest friend, and the timing of his death fit, right before the massacre.

Mother and father leave me alone after telling me of my future training schedule. I tell them I'm headed for a walk, and I take to the rooftops of the clan compound, still dressed in my formal clothing. Slowly I make my way to the tallest part of the compound, where Izumi and I had first seen Itachi slaughter the clan. At the point in the night I don't see many walking the streets, just a handful of ninja returning from training or missions, identifiable by their headbands, and civilian Uchiha returning from late jobs. Even this time of the night, though, I see more life than before: here and there a child walking hand-in-hand with his parents, a couple pressed close together, or occasional stray cat darting between streets, unaware of my gaze.

The tension I've carried with me all day, the jitters, it all slips away when I'm faced with my second chance. I have a chance to save us, to right this monstrous wrong, and I won't let anything stand in my way, not even my brother. I need tell my father and mother about the massacre. I don't know what I can do to prove my words—I don't remember anything too weird happening until Itachi goes crazy—but I know I can't face him on my own. He's killed my family twice, slaughtered the babies and the elderly, and if the lack of police response is any indication, murdered them as well. When weighed against the blood of the clan, what value does my brother have? My beloved older brother, my idol, the kindest and strongest person I know—he has to die.

Tomorrow I'll talk to mother, and together, my parents and I will save the clan.


	4. Chapter 4

**Blessings of the Twisting Eye**

 **Chapter 4**

* * *

I run the whole way back home, eyes on the rooftops and my mind on what I'll tell mother. My mother's fighting makes more sense to me now. I still can't move anywhere fast enough to touch her, but somehow I can block her punches more gracefully, dodge blows by fractions of inches to close in on her, and angle my kicks at perfect angles. All the training—and my eyes—is paying off. In the face of what I'm planning to tell her, though, it doesn't feel like much of a victory.

Mother calls the fight to a halt. She's barely sweating but she smiles at me, pride obvious in her voice.

"You're fast. Your eyes—they're strong. " I force a grin to my face and nod, trying to calm myself to speak. Now that mother is taking me seriously, I should bring up the future. Even if she doesn't believe me the thought of my parents lying dead in their bedroom presses me forward.

"I need to tell you something important," I say, sitting down again and looking at mother. "I…I have my eyes because I've dreamed of the next month. I've lived it. I've trained for a month with them already. The Uchiha are killed, all of us." Saying it aloud is even harder than I thought. I stop. How can I tell my mother that Itachi will slaughter us all? I'll say that after I've convinced her. "I don't know how, but I'm supposed to save the clan." We sit in silence for a few seconds. Mother puts a hand on my head, hugging me to her.

"Sasuke...have you ever heard of Madara's madness?" I know of Madara Uchiha, the strongest of our clan, the founder of Konoha and its most famous traitor, but not of his madness, and I tell mother so.

" _As strong as Madara's eyes were, his love for his family was even stronger. Before the founding of the hidden villages he watched his entire family die one-by-one, too weak to save any except his younger brother Izuna. He dreamt of peace in this world. Izuna and Madara were the sword and shield of the clan, and were the only ninja who could stand against the Senju." I know of the history mother is reciting, though hearing it now is an eerie echo of the future I've seen._

" _After Izuna died in battle, Madara grew even more powerful, strengthened by his hatred, but still was defeated by Hashirama. With a gesture of reconciliation, Hashirama and Madara, both old friends before their personal tragedies, founded the Leaf, and none could stand against them. And yet Madara's fear of loss remained, and when he finally left the village, he spoke only of the dark future that awaited the clan, something only he could foresee. Thus is the story of Madara's madness, the darkness that covered his eyes_. "

Mother recites the story as though it's rehearsed—it's probably more ritual clan history that I'll learn of one day. But as I sit there and listen I feel a growing frustration—as gently as she can, Mother is telling me I'm crazy. I'm not—my dream has happened before. I can't let her think I'm just scared.

"You don't understand. I'm not making this up. There was blood everywhere, Aunt Aiko and-" I'm standing, gesturing frantically, and I realize I'm speaking faster and faster as my eyes dampen. "Everyone was dead, there was just Izumi and I, and we saw you and Father lying dead and-"

"Sasuke. Stop. " Mother is suddenly standing, and puts a firm hand on my shoulder. With a hard exhale I get myself under control, looking anywhere but at her. "I know that awakening your Sharingan can be stressful, and having a dream bad enough to do so means it was probably a crazy one. But, " and she tilts my head towards her with a forceful hand under my chin, "as an Uchiha, you cannot be consumed by such a fear. To be a ninja is to live with fear. To be a grown Uchiha is to master that fear. "

Shame. It's all I feel as the new respect mother had for me disappears. Is this what people will hear, just a child crying out because of a scary dream, someone so young that he cries at dreamt-of blood? That's not what I am. But if I keep bringing it up, mother will only think I'm an even bigger crybaby.

Maybe father will believe me. Even if he doesn't, I have to try. I force my objections down, nod at mother and speak with as much calmness as I can.

"You're right. It's just a dream, no matter how real it seemed. " She doesn't seem entirely convinced, but she nods in acceptance. In a silence thick enough to taste we walk back home, and I keep my thoughts firmly on trying to convince father. Some sort of proof would help—but I can't think of any. There's no important event in the next month that I could tell him of other than Shisui's death, and by then it'll be too late. But doing nothing…that's not an option. Mind made up, I shower and climb into bed, hoping my dreams will reveal some way to convince my father.

* * *

The day dawns bright, but it doesn't much change my mood. Isamu yells at me as we finish morning training, "Man, what's got you so grumpy today?" but I ignore him. I just have to get through the Academy, and then I can talk to father before training in the night. The other students in my class leave me alone, and I bring my attention back to school only long enough to finish up my spars as quick as I can. As soon as class ends for the day, I dodge around the students still standing around and make my way home, avoiding my usual vendor of candy and the friendly guards at the compound gate. Today…there's no time for games.

Father isn't in his office at home when I knock at the door, so I tell mother I'll be a little late for training and go to the Uchiha Police Force Headquarters. It's a 3 story building that extends underground, with a couple of short-term prison cells under the structure, and a design that falls between imposing and brutish, with thick columns, thicker walls, and glass windows big enough that only blurry shapes can be seen through them. I greet the guards standing by the entrance with a nod, recognizing them vaguely from clan meetings, and head up familiar stairs to father's office. His is at the top, as befits the Clan Head and the Head of the Police Force, and moments before I knock on his office, I square my shoulders and breathe in deep, focusing on what I must do.

"Come in. " Father seems surprised to see me. He pushes a couple of scrolls aside and I take a seat after making sure the door is locked. My feet don't touch the floor in the oversized chair.

"Father. There's something important I have to tell you. " I don't wait for a response. "Everything that happens this month, I've dreamt of it before. The night I got my Sharingan I lived through it all. The whole clan is going to die, and -"

"Stop." Father's severe frown fills me with shame, almost more than I bear. "I knew that your dream had been scary, but if you really think it's real, maybe you need to see a doctor." He lets that hang in the air, and mixed up with my anger at being dismissed is burning shame. I won't cry, not about this. "Do you still think it's real?"

"I…no. It's fine. I won't mention it again. I just- " I nod goodbye to father, and practically sprint towards home, trying not to cry or scream in frustration. Parents that don't listen to me, a brother who'll kill them, and a whole clan that will think I'm crazy for even trying to do anything to save them.

I face off with Mother in a spar once again. As usual I feel like a fumbling kid, slow, weak, and barely able to follow the fight, and the frustration builds and builds. Combined with my recent failure the hour-long spar feels like forever, and even as every punch leaves my knuckles stinging, the anger I feel gets hotter and hotter. I'm silent as we fight but I feel like screaming at mother and father, telling them Itachi will kill them all and why can't they see I'm trying to save them.

Mother calls the training to a halt, smiling as she does so. She congratulates me on my improved speed, and asks me if there's a reason I'm more aggressive.

"No. I'm just feeling energetic today, maybe from the spars at the Academy today." I won't bring it up, I'll think of something else to convince them. Dinner is quiet with just mother and me eating, father still at Police Headquarters. I give her short answers when she asks about the Academy, not letting any feeling bleed into my voice, and holding myself back with extra tight clenched fists. Mother's cooking—rice balls with some salty fish—is good enough that I gradually relax into a smile, focusing on the food and the comfort my mother can give me through her simple close by presence. The sudden creak of the door has mother standing quickly to greet father, finally home from work. His smile at seeing mother turns stern as he looks at me. I stare back, unsure of what he'll say. He nods after a moment, and joins us at the table.

After I finish up my food as fast I can, I nod to mother and father and head to bed, intent on getting some space and time to think. My notebook lies useless on my desk, my previous ideas nothing but false hopes and dreams. Whatever I can do to stop this massacre won't involve my parents. For now, it looks like I'm all alone, though whenever Shisui is in the village after his missions, I'll try telling him too. If he's Itachi's closest friend, he should see the change in him before anyone, and maybe, if he's warned ahead of time, stop him somehow. Just having Shisui on the clan's side would make me feel better. I've never seen them fight, but everyone says Shisui and Itachi are the clan's strongest ninja in many years, so if anyone can stop my older brother, its him.

Aside from that, nothing comes to mind. No clever plan to save the clan, no hidden secrets to convince my parents with. I'm useless, weak, nothing compared to Itachi. When I close my eyes I can see his contempt as he bats my attacks away easily, the way he hadn't even used a jutsu to defeat me. I hadn't even drawn blood. My new eyes had been nothing compared to his speed and his skill. One thing sticks out amidst the blood I remember, though I can't figure it out: Izumi moments after she saw him, saying "You truly are kind."

Even if I can't catch up to him, I can't let this month go to waste. I'll train as hard as I can, tell Shisui the truth, and fight my brother once more. If only there was some way to weaken him, something to give me a chance to stop him…my eyes fall on an old book Itachi had given me for my 5th birthday.

It's cover is a young ninja crouched over a plant, leaf headband visible, titled _Hi no Kuni's Plants: The Good, the Tasty, and the Deadly_. That's it! Poison. If I can poison Itachi before he kills the clan, and then somehow take him out myself, I can save all of us. When I finally climb into bed my head is swimming with ideas. Honbeni Wisteria, pale pink topped with purple, or Ryohaku Yew, with fruit that look like hollowed out berries. Either would weaken him I gave him enough, kill if I'm lucky. I just have to get him to drink whatever I make him—maybe I can pretend I've started making my own tea, just for Itachi. For the first time all day, as I see Itachi's death playing out in my head, I feel hope. It fills me as I fall asleep.

The days blur into weeks, and I fill them with training and research on poisonous plants. Mother is proud of my progress in our spars but all I see when I train is Itachi moving faster and better than me, so our training feels bitter and useless as dust. In the evenings I plan Itachi's death, the way I'll mask the tastes and colors of the poisons, the antidote I'll mix for myself beforehand so I can drink from the same cup as him. Everything, all for a chance.

* * *

His fist is moving almost faster than I can—but I weave around the first punch, letting it miss by bare inches, deflect the second enough to avoid it, and weave around punches, grinning widely all the while. Isamu's face tightens with anger, and his strikes get faster, harder. Good. He catches me with a hard punch on crossed arms and I flow with the punch into a back handspring I can only pull off because of our morning workouts. My eyes catch his leg coming in for a kick as I recover into a standing position and I just barely get my shin in place to guard my face. A quick kick off his leg with my foot, I'm back in a standing position, and I catch him across the face with a wound up punch that slows him down long enough for me to grapple him to the ground. In a straight contest of strength, Isamu wins—but I've gotten fast and skilled enough that I can win our spars, most of the time—so my smaller arms are wrapped around the weakest parts of his joints before he can twist away, holding him still till he surrenders.

That small victory carries me through morning at the Academy with a steady smile and even the boredom I feel learning the same stuff twice over can't bring me down. I breeze through spars and classroom questions and run through my plan one more time: I'll leave the Academy a little early, swing by Shisui after school, and ask mother if she wants to try a tea I've made. Itachi gets back in a couple days from what I remember, so by then it won't be suspicious and I can finally carry out my plan.

When Shisui finally opens the door after my insistent knocking he grins widely through his obvious exhaustion. He looks like he's resting up—probably on a break after a long mission. I close the door behind me before he can ask me to come another time, and hand Shisui his taiyaki treat, his favorite flavor, as payment for waking him up. After everything I've seen it's hard to talk to him like I used to, to tell him about my latest news from school or brag about how I beat Isamu in a spar. It all feels so flimsy, like some paper drawing of life that'll rip apart soon enough, but to keep things normal I try anyways. Pushing through the sense of fakery, I tell him about my Sharingan, my skill with fire jutsu, the training with mother, and the kunai and shuriken drills I do every afternoon.

After a while it feels nice to finally relax with him, to do something that isn't just train or plan, and I feel my first real grin as Shisui promises to train me when he has more free time. But as I glance at the clock and realize I'm running low on time, I steel myself for the purpose of my trip here.

"There's something important I need to tell you, cousin. It's going to sound crazy, but just let me say everything first, and then ask me anything." With that out of the way, "The clan is in danger. I don't know why, but in two weeks, Itachi will kill everyone. " There. I've said the most unbelievable part of the massacre. "And right before that, he's going to kill you, and make it look like you threw yourself into the Naka river. " Shisui's usually cheerful face is grim, focused. "In one night, he'll kill everyone in the clan except for me, and tell me to hunt him, to one day avenge the clan."

For a long while I stare back at Shisui as his red eyes examine me, as if to find some hidden joke or flaw. If cousin is really as good as everyone says…his eyes should see the truth on me, even if my parents didn't.

"Sasuke, how do you know this?" Shisui asks, his voice thankfully not incredulous.

"I don't know how or why, but the first time this happened, Aunt Aiko did something to me. Maybe it was some sort of jutsu." I close my eyes to better see her twisting eye turning milky white. "Her Sharingan turned into something else, maybe a Mangekyo Sharingan, and she told me to 'save the clan.'" I smile at Shisui, glad someone is taking me seriously. "Do you believe me?"

Shisui grins back, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Yeah Sasuke, I believe you." He stands up, and as I meet his spinning red eyes I realize abruptly it's getting late enough that I need to meet with mother. I stumble a little, probably dizzy from running around all day, and Shisui steadies me, helping me to the door. He unlocks the door and faces me, grinning like normal. "I'll keep an eye out Sasuke, but don't worry about it, okay? I'll handle this." I nod back, suddenly sure it will all work out. With Shisui on the case, everything will be fine.

Instead of my usual frown I'm grinning as I barely keep up with mother's attacks, and for once her clear advantage doesn't leave me feeling like a little kid. My blocks are crisp and my blows are fast and efficient, and even if she still dodges around everything I feel more carefree and happy than I have since this month started over, and I fall asleep content.

Like normal I'm up early, strapping on my gear and sandals for early morning training with Isamu. With a start I realize Itachi and mother are sitting quietly in the kitchen, both smiling at me. I clench my hand hard, and force a smile on. I can't talk to him—not before I've planned for this. "Sorry, but I gotta run. Gotta train with Isamu. " I'm out of the door before they can respond, running over to Isamu's. The way I am right now, the anger I feel when I see him—there's no way Itachi will think everything is fine. If I want any plan I have to work, if I don't want him suspicious, I can't let him see how I really feel. Maybe that's why I'm so vicious when we train: I don't hold back, even when Isamu starts hitting back just as hard, and we end up stopping our fighting earlier than usual when we're both scratched up and grumpy. "Sorry, I guess I got carried away," I say.

I stop by a grove of trees on my walk back home and spend a half hour meditating in preparation for seeing Itachi. On my 5th birthday father started teaching me how to meditate. It's important for being able to increase spiritual energy, and eventually, create chakra, so every ninja child begins when we're young. Now I'm sitting only to make sure I'll be able to talk to Itachi without trembling in a mix of fear and anger. The first step: follow the breath. When my breathing becomes effortless and my mind narrows to the sensation of my breath, the second step: I follow my chakra from the base of my back up through my spine, feeling energy flow up to my heart. I imagine it flowing through my body, strengthening my arms and legs, coiling back up to the heart to go up through the neck to my eyes. Under closed lids my eyes spin to life as I feel my chakra circulate through my forehead, and rise to the top of my head, my forehead, before subsiding back down. Doggedly, even as stray memories float up- my parents impaled in their room, my clan slaughtered like animals—I return to the flow, and I open my eyes only when I feel calm and centered enough to be near Itachi.

Itachi and mother are still chatting in the kitchen, nibbling on their breakfast, and they both stare at the scratches covering my arms as I walk back in. "This morning got a little crazy, but I'm fine." I force a smile on as I'm washing the dirt off my arms and really, the scratches don't sting much. My usual omelet awaits me as I sit, and I'm making every effort to talk to Itachi like I always do, as calm as anyone can be while sitting next to a kinslayer, a traitor, and the opposite of the brother I remember. Originally I'd planned to show him and mother the tea I've been making, to get Itachi to lower his guard, but after meeting with Shisui, I'm sure he'll prevent the Massacre on his own.

Instead, I tell both of them about school, of my winning streak in sparring, and the successful kunai trick I've pulled off, trying hard to not think of my initial inspiration for working hard: to surpass Itachi, to be just as skilled as my older brother. How did I use to act? Maybe I should brag…"I'll be just as good as you one day, Itachi. Just watch. " I'm grinning as fiercely as I can, thinking of how I used to act. I just need to pretend everything is okay until Shisui takes care of things. For a while it feels a bit like a dream: I'm talking enough for all us, mother and Itachi alike in their soft smiles and the way they can laugh gently without being mean. And yet even as he smiles as I tell them of beating Isamu this morning I can't help but hear Itachi's words again, the hatred he told me to hold dear, and the casual way he had defeated me. My hands clench under the table, and I'm sure I'll see blood when I open them. Only the knowledge that Shisui will do something stops me from terror.

I can't help myself. I open red eyes, knowing I carry two tomoe, and face Itachi, only knowing what I'm doing when I hear the words myself: "Brother, fight me. I want to test my eyes against yours." A traditional Uchiha spar, between teacher and student or rival to rival, and one that means contempt for me if Itachi declines. Mother sighs loudly, clearly disapproving, and Itachi has a rare frown.

"How did he get his eyes?" Itachi quietly asks, turning to mother and ignoring me completely. I stand, my pride overriding the remnants of my calm.

"Fight me. I want to show you I'm not weak. " Mother gives me a stern look, not quite contempt but something like 'sit down and shut up' and turns back to Itachi. Resentment mixes with shame as I obey.

"He awoke them 3 weeks ago in his sleep." She smiles lightly. "Since then we've been training together, though he obviously has a lot to learn if he talks to you like that."

"Really. I see," His hands lie relaxed on the table but my eyes catch the tension in his face through his narrowed eyes and clenched jaw. "Father has been training him, I assume."

"Yes."

"Does this mean Sasuke is a full member of the clan?" he asks, emphasizing 'full' with a hint of anger. I've seen Itachi amidst their bodies, slaughtering the clan—and yet even then he'd been controlled, all ice and restraint. Not like now.

"He's said his clan pledge," she says slowly, "but he hasn't attended a clan meeting." As the tension in the room is reaching its peak, I hear father's voice.

"Itachi. Calm yourself. " More stern than I've seen before even in his bath robe, father is standing in the doorway. "Don't speak of things he shouldn't hear. " Again with dismissing me. No. I stand again, resentment and anger pushing through my normal habits.

"What is he talking about? How come I'm not a full member of the clan?"

Father forces me to my seat with a firm hand on my shoulder.

"When you can control your temper, you'll be worthy. When you act like a child, like you're doing right now, and after you first awakened your eyes, you're not an adult Uchiha. " My eyes are burning and I blink away tears. The shame I feel is nothing compared to the hot anger when I see Itachi, the burning desire to tell it all—but even now, Shisui's promise holds me back. I can't spill the plan before he has a chance to do something. Everyone's eyes are on me and I see the contempt on all of their faces. Fine.

"I'm sorry. I'll be better, I promise. I… was just surprised to see Itachi." I head to my room, eyes on the ground, and get ready for school in an angry daze. Instead of leaving through the front door I head out my bedroom window, unwilling to see their disappointed faces.


	5. Shisui 1

Shisui Interlude 1

As soon as Sasuke has turned away, he's started preparations for the night. First, the tanto, freshly sharpened and polished, strapped over his back and within easy reach. He drops a bundle of kunai into the pouch, a roll of tags, food pills, a brace of shuriken, and takes a breath. Inhale.

He doesn't bother with stealth or taking to the rooftops—instead he runs, pure speed and a shunshin masking his movement, and reappears at Fugaku's office door. Exhale.

"Enter."

Fugaku wears a surprised smile, and even as Shisui grins back, he feels the usual warring tug inside him: the love for a close uncle, caring and stern clan leader, hero to the village after the third war—and suppressed anger for the coming coup, the possible deaths that might result. Like everything else in his life, it came back to the war. The third war had come early for Shisui. As grandson of Kagami Uchiha, the most renowned Uchiha since Madara himself, everyone had expected him to succeed—and he had surpassed even those expectations, fighting in the desperate last days of the 3rd war when even Genin had been sent out to the front, and awakening his Mangekyo Sharingan earlier than any before him. It was a miracle childish confidence hadn't left him blind—that, and the long wait between each use.

Fugaku had made his name in that war too and for a while, Shisui had heard rumors that Fugaku might be the next Hokage. For all that he claimed to be working for the clan the more cynical part of him couldn't help but think the coup was in some ways for that: an attempt to capture the hat he had been close to wearing.

As he stares at his uncle across the desk, it's easy to forget the reason he'd come by: Sasuke's ranting. Did Fugaku suspect him of treachery? Had he sent Sasuke as a message, designed to provoke Shisui? His eyes blinked red and the world clarified into acceptable clarity. The last usage of his Kotoamatsukami a year ago had left his vision without the Sharingan blurry but functional and he deliberately avoided using his Sharingan to compensate—it was an easy tell that his vision had been damaged. It was far better, he thought, to project strength, hide weakness, and reveal hidden depths when provoked.

"Uncle, did you tell Sasuke to talk to me?" Fugaku frowns, and Shisui thinks he sees surprise.

"No. What did he do?" The first rule of finding truth, as he'd once told Itachi, 'was to wait and watch.' Of course, that had been when Itachi had come blushing to him with questions about Izumi and maybe it had taken longer than it should have because of that—but he had to focus on now. With nothing but time, most people would reveal more than they realized, no violence necessary. As an experienced police officer, Fugaku was probably better than him at this type of exercise, so with a wry smile, he drops into the sliding chair, and puts his feet on the desk. Mild disrespect, designed to provoke. Or maybe he's just feeling like that. Shisui finds it hard to tell.

"Cute little Sasuke decided to tell me that he's had dreams of the clan being slaughtered." Fugaku clenchs his clasped hands. Anger, disappointment, maybe some contempt, his eyes tell him, but no surprise.

"Sasuke has been…strange lately. " Fugaku says, and Shisui abruptly realizes he's now a part-time family therapist. "After he awoke his Sharingan—with two tomoe—in his sleep, he told Mikoto and I that the whole clan was going to die. "

"He told me that too, and that Itachi would do it, a week from now." Fugaku exhales loudly, visibly controlling himself. "I'm sure you realize that date is a little…suspicious." Fugaku's office is secure, but it never hurts to be cautious. A good genjutsu caster must practice an eye for detail, an understanding of human emotions. Shisui is the best, and everything he's practiced tells him Fugaku is as puzzled by Sasuke's behavior as he was.

If Sasuke's rant wasn't some subtle prod by Fugaku to test his loyalty, then who else would push Sasuke into doing that? Fugaku leans back in his chair, locks eyes with Shisui.

"Fugaku…do you think someone is trying to send a message through Sasuke?" A show of force, intimidation by controlling the son of the clan head. It reeked of Danzo—brazen enough to be unexpected, but sneaky and ruthless like no other ninja in the Elemental Nations. Fugaku's head inclines slightly.

"Maybe. The negotiations are not going well." Fugaku said. The words he'd been dreading, the fear he carried with him on every mission.

"What is it this time?"

Fugaku closes his eyes and leans back, looking more tired than Shisui has ever seen.

"Danzo won't budge on anything related to clan secrets or Uchiha ninja living outside the compound. He wants access to the clan's store of eye, or at least our hidden knowledge on it—who knows for what. Even if it's pure symbolism at this point, he wants the Clan's old hideouts to become formally Konoha's." Damn. Danzo was pushing a hard bargain, simultaneously preventing Uchiha assimilation into Konoha through living throughout the village and trying to eliminate it's quasi-independence from Konoha, the old network of hideouts and weapons storage it maintained through Fire Country.

"And the Hokage?" Fugaku's scowl deepens.

"He speaks softly, but the old Monkey doesn't budge. He barely bothers to pretend he'll consider an Uchiha for Hokage." As much as Shisui felt like punching Fugaku for proposing a coup, with those terms, it wasn't hard to understand his frustration. After years of subtle humiliation within the village and a system designed to reduce Uchiha influence in Konona's higher ranks, there was a reason Shisui and Itachi's meteoric ascents into ANBU had been such a source of hope for their clan. "Sasuke might be Danzo making a threat, trying to show me he can threaten even my son." Fugaku doesn't bother hiding his anger. His eyes are spinning and fierce. "And Sasuke isn't the only problem. Two Uchiha have lost a Sharingan."

"How did they lose their eyes?" He doesn't fake his puzzlement.

"Aiko and Teyaki both woke up 3 weeks ago with one eye blind. " Shisui wracks his memory. Aiko is his second cousin, an average ninja by Uchiha standards, but Teyaki didn't even fight- he ran a senbei shop, selling crackers and tea that were very popular among the Uchiha and the village elite.

"Teyaki has a Sharingan?"

Fugaku nods. "The strangest part of this is that the blindness is identical to the records we have of using our forbidden jutsu." He gets up, reaches into a drawer. "Milky white, non-responsive to light or motion, complete chakra pathway atrophy, and no change with medical jutsu."

"That's bizarre. You think it's Danzo? "

"Maybe. " Fugaku leans back, unsure. "Who else would have the resources or the motivation?" It's a good point. Danzo had the implicit backing of the Hokage as long as he didn't step too far out of line, and his actions over the last 8 years showed his clear suspicions…even if there had been hope, recently. When Itachi and Shisui had been accepted into ANBU, many had believed that finally, 8 years after the Kyuubi attack, the Hokage and Danzo trusted the Uchiha enough to let them into one of the few ways of career advancement outside of wartime. Ninja prestige depended on reputation: most famously in war, but a Captain in ANBU or a Jounin-Sensei both made lots of friends by protecting their allies and successfully completing missions. 'Ninja networking', he'd told Itachi, when he'd first been inducted in ANBU. With most Uchiha pushed onto the Police Force after making Chuunin there weren't any skilled Uchiha that people saw fighting for the village—just police enforcing the rules of the village, unpopular at the best of times.

"But what would be the point? What does Danzo gain besides making us more paranoid?"

"I'm not sure. He might be trying to strengthen his bargaining position by implying he can blind us if necessary. "

"Or he's trying to push us into action to get the Hokage's approval for more drastic action. "

"Yes. " Fugaku acknowledges, and spreads his hands wide. "You see the problem. I've been hiding their condition from most of the clan and the Hokage but as soon it's widely known there'll be unrest. " Shisui gets up, cracks his neck to relieve some tension, and paces.

"So to sum it up: Sasuke is probably being manipulated, two Uchiha have lost an eye each, and you think Danzo might be behind it. How would he even know about Izanagi or Izanami? "

"Kagami Uchiha. " Fugaku reaches into another drawer, pulls out a folder labeled 'Second Hokage's Escort Squad', and spreads 6 sheeets across the desk. "Danzo, Hiruzen, Koharu, Homura, Kagami, and Torifu were all part of the Second's elite bodyguard and striking unit. " It all clicks now—the Hokage's reliance on his old teammates, Danzo's seeming intransigence—the Council and the Hokage were all acting out their roles, good cop and bad cop.

"So you think Kagami told Danzo about our jutsu?"

Fugaku nods. "This is all speculation, obviously, but it makes sense. They were very close—it's rumored Kagami helped start Root, actually—and Kagami and Danzo were on the same squad until he died. From there…". Fugaku shrugs, "there were rumors Danzo worked with Orochimaru, and if anyone could figure out how to selectively blind our eyes it'd be him."

"You've spent a lot of time thinking this through." Fugaku nods and he sees a shadow of Itachi's perpetually sunken eyes in his father's.

"That's not the only concerning thing. Kakashi's been deep in ANBU for years—and since the Fourth died, he's been serving directly under Hiruzen or Danzo." Fugaku's voice grows more animated, near frantic. "Who's to say he isn't a test case of sorts, to see if non-Uchiha can successfully handle the Sharingan? If he is, there's even less holding them back from marginalizing the clan. " Fugaku exhales hard, donning his usual calmness. "Regardless, Shisui, the Uchiha Council is trying to push things forward." Fugaku steeples his fingers, speaking in formal tones, "They have given orders: You, Itachi, and I will strike at the Council within the month. Monitor Itachi, make sure he's on board, and use your eyes to persuade him if necessary. " Shisui breathes out hard, not surprised but disappointed nonetheless. The village and the clan are at a stalemate and are both demanding payment in blood. He considers delaying: if he uses his eye on Fugaku, he can definitely persuade him to wait—but Danzo might move forward, and attack. He needs to talk with Itachi.

"Itachi gets back tomorrow morning. You know as well as I that the conditions for the coup aren't optimal right now," Shisui says, "and if Itachi or I back out, there's no chance. Us three are the only ones who can face the Hokage and his council and have a chance of winning. "

Fugaku smiles back, and Shisui's tension drains away. A test of sorts, to see Shisui's opinion before Fugaku revelaed his own. Clever. "I was hoping you'd say that. That's two of three against, and Itachi will agree as well. " Fugaku could defy the council by himself at the risk of losing face—but if he came to them with the weight of Shisui and Itachi's support, there was little they could do. "A clan meeting is scheduled in 3 days. We'll push for a delay then. We'll meet before then—tomorrow night, if Itachi is back. "

"Understood. I'll investigate Root on my own, report back with what I find out. "

"Be careful. Good luck."

Shisui vanishes faster than any can follow.

The morning dawns bright and clear and even as he thinks of tasks upon his shoulder Shisui can't help but wonder at the beauty of the clan compound. A distant uncle mans a food cart, pretending not to notice his granddaughter stealing little bits of fried pancake with a sly giggle; his cousin Isamu heading to the Academy with a black eye, probably from sparring; a couple of Uchiha policeman heading off for patrol—it all bustles with life. He picks up a light breakfast for himself and a box of nuts and fruit for later along the way towards Itachi's house and eats it as he heads towards the older part of the compound, where the clan head's house lies. Every other Uchiha he sees smiles at him and Shisui sees the strange double dose of expectation and respect in their eyes. Sometimes, he notes wryly, it's hard to be this awesome. Like always Itachi opens the door before he can knock, and the shadows under his eyes are deeper than ever. In unspoken agreement they body flicker away, heading to their customary meeting place.

Before Itachi can speak Shisui swipes a finger through his mouth, gathers a drop of blood and weaves through signs. In a puff of smoke a murder of crows appear, and stare silently at Shisui (is he imagining their disapproval?) until he laughs and produces their treat: the box of fruits and nuts from this morning. Man, his crows have a better poker face than Itachi—which is just about the highest praise he can think of. Itachi remains stoically neutral—if he doesn't relax with their summons around, what's happened?

"Is this about Sasuke?" Itachi gives Shisui a sharp gaze but he shrugs it off. Itachi can scare other people off with his emotionless stare—but Shisui's seen enough blushing when Izumi's around, and can still remember a younger Itachi, pale after the massacre of his first team.

"How did you know?"

"I'm not sure what he told you, but he talked to me last night." Shisui whistles, and a crow lands in his outstretched hand. He looks down as he speaks, grooming his summon carefully. "Something about the clan getting murdered, you carrying it out, and my death in a couple of days. All cheerful stuff." Itachi's eyes narrow.

"That's not he told me. He just wanted to fight me this morning, but he was acting…strange. Scared of me, maybe, or angry. Conflicted, too. " Huh. Seems like his genjutsu hadn't been as effective as he thought. He hadn't put all that much effort into it, but for Sasuke to defy his command at all…

"Had he been injured somehow? I put a genjutsu on him last night after he spoke to me to stop him from doing anything too rash. "

"Isamu and him have been sparring since he awakened his eyes—that's probably it. " Shisui gestured to his crows and they scattered in a noisy tumult, sure to warn them of any intruders.

"There's been developments." Briefly he sketched out what he'd learned: the impasse the clan and the Hokage had arrived at, their suspicions that Danzo was trying to provoke them, and most concerning of all, the two Sharingan that had somehow been lost. If anyone could weave together those scattered mysteries into a coherent thread, it was Itachi. Shisui was faster, just as skilled, probably stronger with his special eyes—but if anyone could outmatch Danzo at intrigue, it was Itachi.

"It's concerning." Itachi said at last. "The clan is ready to boil over, the Hokage doesn't budge, and Danzo is fanning the flames from the sidelines." Itachi closes his eyes, thinking out loud. "Your eyes could delay it, but the clan is pushing for change, and if father doesn't act on it now, it'll come up again and again. And if father decides to go through with it…" Itachi sighed, and continued reluctantly, "Given what I've learned recently about Father's abilities, he has a fair chance of succeeding, too, or at least causing a lot of damage. The last time I hinted that I was skeptical of the coup, he showed me his eyes. " Itachi looked at him, serious. "He has the Mangekeyo Sharingan." Shisui sucks in a breath, surprised. There'd been rumors that Fugaku had awakened them in the 3rd War, but after a decade of steady denials and no evidence, he, like everyone else, had assumed Fugaku lacked them.

"That complicates things. I'd still bet on the Hokage, but that kind of fight would involve serious damage." Itachi nods.

"It explains why he's been so optimistic about our chance. You, me and him would almost certainly win against the Hokage and his guard—if it even came to that. Father thinks, correctly, that if all 3 of us faced him, we could force a succession. "

As discomfiting as treason is to contemplate Shisui holds another belief more dearly still: that Konoha will burn bright as long as it's shinobi consider it their extended family. If it's better for the village, if it will reduce tensions—could he betray his own Hokage? If it was better for the village…

"I trust you on this. If we overpower the Hokage, have a successful coup, and install Fugaku or myself as Hokage, would that be better for Konoha?" Itachi is silent for a long while.

"I'm not sure. The village is just now recovering from Orochimaru's defection—a sudden change to a new Hokage might signal weakness to enemies. The problem is this- " Itachi stood, twirling a kunai as his only visible sign of emotion. "The Hokage needs to be one of the strongest in the village, right?"

"Right. The Fourth proved himself by defeating countless Iwa shinobi, the Third through his training under the Second and his performance in the First War. " Itachi nods in agreement.

"And everyone who might've been Hokage also had high profiles: the Sannin, the White Fang, all of them." Shisui puzzles the problem out in his head. The clan wants an Uchiha Hokage, an end to Uchiha discrimination—but without a prominent war hero, there isn't an obvious candidate.

"Your father might've been able to 8 years ago, but at this point, " Shisui trails off.

"He hasn't taken on many missions since the end of the war. He's been behind the Police desk, and even if he's retained his skills, it'd be a pretty abrupt transition for the village. " Itachi looks steadily at him, gaze unnerving. "Honestly, you're probably a better choice than him. Everyone in ANBU knows your reputation, the Hokage knows you're loyal, and the Clan loves you. " Itachi's lips curl into a smile, teasing. "A compromise candidate: An Uchiha that also loves the village. " Shisui grins back, but he can't help but worry. Is it really that simple?

Itachi's grin fades as he speaks again. "But that's all speculation. For now, we need to delay. We'll try to delay the clan at the meeting in two days, and you'll use your eyes on father if you have to. Danzo-" Shisui interrupts, guessing his plan.

"I'll report to him today, keep him updated on our plans, and get him to back off on the Sharingan eye thing." He grins through their collective anxiety, trying to keep positive. "I don't want to go blind till after I'm married. " He gets a raised eyebrow from Itachi so he counts it as a win. His crows circle back on his command, and he readies himself to go. Some residual wariness makes him speak. "Itachi, I want you within hearing distance when I meet with Danzo. If he's willing to blind us to prove a point, I want backup just in case. " Itachi nods, and they're gone, moving faster than any can follow.

Root has a number of bases underneath and around Konoha, and though Shisui has done missions for Danzo in the past, he still doesn't know half of their locations. So he waits, weapons and gear transformed into casual clothing, at the safest spot—a public square filled with vendors in the middle of Konoha where he can eat some teniyaki from his favorite stand, watch the sunset, and drop his foil wrapper in the public bathroom's garbage. Root has a number of covert places to drop messages off—meeting with the Hokage in his tower don't cut it for Danzo's level of secrecy.

He ambles home and halfway there he knows he's being followed—faint rustles that stick out to his hearing and that vague 6th sense only sensors can sharpen into true usefulness. Perfect. Root is ready to meet. He blurs into motion, leaving only a crow feather behind, and in his casual shunshin his mind is sharp as ever, eyes red to catch any possible betrayal. Danzo is not to be taken lightly, and besides him, Shisui has many enemies

An old temple relatively far from Konoha, perfect for secret meetings: and he sees Danzo and a collection of Root agents, all turning warily to him as he appears before them.

"Shisui. You wanted to meet?"

"Yes. We need privacy. I have news." The Root agents bristle at his lack of honorisms but he's done kowtowing to Danzo's strange compulsion for respect. If Danzo's really behind the blindness and Sasuke's rants, he'll need to show he's not intimidated into obedience. Danzo stares calmly back at him, as difficult to read as ever. Not for the first time he wonders what lies beneath those bandages….is it true weakness or a hidden strength? Even rumors are hard to come by. Danzo nods, and with a gesture the Root agents disperse around the field. "The latest round of negotiations have angered the clan."

Danzo seems unsurprised and he can't help the surge of anger at him. If another world…if Danzo wasn't so suspicious, maybe it never would have come to this. "But I think, with Itachi's support, we can push Fugaku to delay any action for a while. We'll frame it as strategic, and Fugaku is itching for an excuse to delay too. If it doesn't work…I'll use the Kotoamatsukami on him. "

"That's good to hear, but do you think the peace will last? The long-term prospects?"

"For at least another year or two, yup." Shisui crosses his arms, thinking it through. "Even with your attempts at intimidation the clan won't back down, so I'm not sure it'll last. " Danzo frowns, and Shisui thinks he sees confusion on his face before it smoothes into its impassive default. "If you were willing to give some concessions, let us keep a couple of old hideouts to calm them down- " Even as Shisui speaks, he knows it's hopeless. Danzo is as stubborn as they come.

"I'll consider it," Danzo says, and he's never felt so relieved to be wrong, "and I'll talk to the Hokage. I have to consult with him before making any promises, but if the Uchiha can restrain themselves, I'll see if we can come to an agreement. " Danzo smiles at him, and Shisui smiles back, still a bit shocked. The meeting he'd dreaded, the man he distrusted…this was good news.

And then Danzo moves, cane falling as he attacks. Danzo was an exceptional shinobi, a teammate of the current Hokage, but Shisui had never been beaten in speed, and he acts faster. With a glimmer of eye contact Danzo freezes, hand inches from Shisui's face, caught in his own hand. Danzo must've been going after his eyes…so Danzo really didn't trust him. Should he retreat, regroup with Itachi and go to the Hokage to negotiate? There was no time. He deflects the rain of kunai with his sword, barely moving, and turned to face his enemies, keeping the dozen Root shinobi in sight. They spread into a semi circle, and he keeps himself between them and Danzo. Root was loyal to him—he could use Danzo as a bargaining chip.

Breathe in, breathe out. No one moves, unwilling to restart the fight. Their swords were polished, and in the reflection he spotts motion behind him. He catches the kunai in his hand, Danzo having freed himself, and then freezes, abruptly unable to move. Black marks spread on his skin. A curse mark. Damn. Danzo must have gotten him. In a single motion Danzo tears his right eye out, and he gasps, pain temporarily overcoming the paralysis. Shit. His plan was all falling apart. Danzo stands in front of him, unafraid. He strains against the jutsu. Nothing.

"You're an exceptional shinobi, Shisui, but your eyes are too powerful to leave alone," Danzo says, "What stops you from using them on the Hokage or me?" Danzo unwraps the bandages around his eye, uncaring of Shisui's increasingly desperate struggle, his rapid breathing. A Sharingan turning milky white sat in his socket—the Izanagi, he must have used it. Danzo continues speaking even as he starts to exchange the eye. "Know this: I do this to protect the village, not out of greed. I commend your loyalty to Konoha. "

Every jutsu had a weakness and even as Danzo spoke Shisui was thinking through this one's. If this technique was so strong and seemingly easy to apply, it should've been more widely in use. Even if he was frozen his genjutsu that only required eye contact should work…but no luck there. If it was like straining against a Nara jutsu…the brute force would work on it. He had only used it once, afraid of the damage to his eyes, but if anytime called for it, this one did.

His left eye's tomoe spun into a 4-pronged shuriken and he felt his empty socket burn as well. The burning spreads quickly through his body till the pain of his stolen eye pales before it, and with a feeling like straining against a heavy weight, his Susanoo appeared. Faster than he'd ever tried the full manifestation appears, armor snapping into place as pale green fire and he sweeps its hands in a circle, trying to catch Danzo. Root members interposed their bodies and jutsu, softening the blow, but he catches Danszo on a backhand, sending him flying. The strange proprioception from the Susanoo disconcerts him. It was weird to feel bones crunch first hand like that.

Danzo stands, visibly injured, but calm. Shisui's breath comes in short pants and he moves his body gingerly, relieved to see the curse marks fade. Now. He drops the Susanoo and moves through signs. As he exhales fire his hands are already blurring again, sending shuriken flying towards Root and sending kunai after them to change their path. Danzo retreated behind two Root members, a part of him noticed, and he weaves through signs again, scooping a little of his blood up as he went. A murder of crows appear and disperse, racing to notify Itachi.

Breathe in. For most ninja a body flicker meant trading speed for planning—a brief burst of movement performed in a dreamlike world, a single action or move done at lightning speed. Not for Shisui.

To Root he simply disappeared, flickering at speed. He moved in a line towards the copse of trees, faster than they could track, and up a tree, trying to catch a glimpse of the battle and what Danzo was planning. His single eye catches a glimpse of Danzo calmly working on his right arm, removing bandages, and he moves again before they could see him. He was abruptly amidst the group of Root, already swinging a sword against one, before they reacted. Breathe out. One down, and his eye and speed lets him flow around most hits, getting nothing but scratches as he weaved around a pair that fought as a team, both careful to avoid eye contact, matching their blows with his sword and letting them push him back. As they close in on either side, sure of victory, he catches one's gaze, and in a blur of motion, one skewers the other, missing Shisui entirely. He blurs again, slitting the other ninja's throat as he goes, and sends a giant shuriken hurtling towards Danzo, hoping to stop whatever Danzo is planning. A seal on his arm, some sort of weapon…whatever it is, it can't be good. A Root member bats the first away, and misses the second hidden in its shadow. Danzo puts his free hand to his mouth, breathes out a wave of air that shimmers in Shisui's vision to cut the shuriken into pieces. Another sign and Danzo exhales again, sending the fragments flying rapidly back towards Shisui.

He weaves around the pieces, grinning—he's managing to keep Danzo busy, away from his mysterious arm. A sign from Danzo and three Root members engage, all keeping their eyes on the ground. Shit. Just as Shisui considers using the Susanoo again to clear some space he sees the shower of kunai heading towards him, a classic 8 spread formation. Perfect. He throws his own set of kunai, wires around select ones, and fire roars down all 16, courtesy of Itachi. Two more down with the unexpected help, another retreating back to Danzo, bleeding a bit.

"You took your time, Itachi." Itachi doesn't reply, his face serious. With Itachi here, he feels confident of his odds. Better to be cautious, however. "Don't let his men interfere. I need to stop him from unsealing his arm. "

Four Root left and Itachi takes them all on himself, dodging and ducking with so little margin for error that even as he remains unharmed, pieces of his jacket flake off from scratches. Shisui attacks Danzo, whose arm is still sealed, and drops into his familiar attack pattern. Shisui moves faster than almost any can keep up with—but Danzo has a Sharingan and his wind-coated kunai give him extra reach that he uses for all it's worth, keeping him off balance with scythes of wind that leave stinging wounds on his flank. He's impressed—Danzo must be as old as the Hokage, and he's still good enough to keep up. Part of him, the part that guiltily enjoys the breathless thrill of fighting, is tempted to draw it out, see what he can do. Instead, as Itachi catches the last two Root agents in a hasty genjutsu and moves to support, he closes his eye briefly, and his Susanoo flares to life with a flare of pain. He hasn't shown this part of it off yet, so it should be a surprise. Danzo's eye widen at the Susanoo and he jumps into the air, weaving through signs—a summon, huh. Too slow. Itachi is already throwing kunai at Danzo, and Danzo is forced to stop his jutsu to deflect. He takes a breath, probably for a jutsu, but before he can do anything else Shisui's Susanoo's chest flares with life. A dozen senbon of green chakra shoot out, incredibly fast, and catch Danzo in his limbs. He falls to the ground with a crash.

They approach quickly but wary of traps, eyes peeled for any more shinobi. None. Danzo lies in a pool of spreading blood, struggling to rise. He meets their eyes—his first unforced mistake—and Shisui catches him in a genjutsu once again, knocking him out. Shisui's other eye hasn't fully implanted yet—it usually takes days for a transferred eye to function, according to clan records—so he's confident Danzo is fully out. A quick food pill before the day's events can catch up fully, and then Itachi and him gather up Danzo, flickering away to Naka shrine. There's work to do.


	6. Chapter 5

**(Edited 05/13/2017)**

 **Blessings of the Twisting Eye**

 **Chapter 5**

I make it through school mostly through one word sentences and the meanest face I can muster—I'm only called on once, and Manabu-sensei stops bothering me after I answer our quiz perfectly. The walk back home would normally be my chance to take in Konoha's beauty—the first time I'd seen the village with two tomoe had been magical, almost: the shimmering leaves, clear and distinct even from a distance, meat that glistened and charred as it cooked in busy food stands, streamers of foil and ribbons that adorned little kids' hair—it felt like the world had suddenly gained a dozen new colors, and sometimes just seeing it made me happy enough for a wide grin.

But today doesn't feel like that type of day. I've warned my cousin and I trust him—but Itachi is strong, and who knows what's happened? With my fists clenched tight I head over to mother for our usual training. Her voice is colder than usual, sentences clipped, and I can tell she's still upset about this morning. The shame and fear mix into a strange hot brew and I'm fighting better than before—more desperate, somehow—even as I feel the mild soreness of my morning spar. Mother finally acknowledges my efforts with a distant nod, and dismisses me early.

"I'm gonna go for a walk, cool down some. I'll be back by dinner." Mother nods, and I grab a brace of kunai before heading out. I walk through the compound first, grabbing a bag of sticky candy from a vendor on my way, and head for my favorite spot for thinking—the tallest building in the compound. From here, and with these eyes, I can see my whole clan and even some of the village, all at once— the gate where the compound meets the greater village and the wall that cradles the village on its exposed flank and merged with the sheer rock of Hokage Rock. Even now, as evening approached, I could make out distant relatives chatting with cooks, parents gathering up kids playing in parks, and the occasional stern glance of a ninja or policeman patrolling, moving faster than civilians but visible to me. Maybe it was weird to stare like this, to get teary-eyed when I saw Uchiha streets free of blood or the proud uniform of my clan, the red and white fan. Some kids in my class—like Kiba or Naruto—would probably try to tease me if they knew that I had to wipe my eyes after coming up here and seeing everyone alive like this. I couldn't help it. Seeing everything I could lose and the blood my brother would spill…it felt too big for me to handle, like even if sat and thought for a month I wouldn't be able to understand everyone dying. Maybe that's why I felt indecisive, aching to do something but hearing Shisui's reassurance that he would take care of things.

A part of me wanted to cry and ask mother and father to handle it, to tell me I would be all right. Another part, even if I wish I didn't know it, felt a twisted pride at seeing father and mother train me, liked the fire of purpose that pushed me on. I felt important, that was it, so important the whole clan had seen me give an oath younger than anyone except Itachi, seen my eyes and their strength, I had beaten Isamu black and blue just like I would beat Itachi. I breathed faster, clenching my fists on the railing and hearing the metal groan. My eyes stung a little from tears.

It felt good to win, to move fast enough that mother was impressed, that father took me seriously. But it was nothing. Everyone was so much stronger that I knew I could never make a difference, at least not quick enough to save my clan. I knew that telling Shisui was the right thing to do—the responsible thing—even as part of me ached to fight Itachi myself. So that was what I told myself, over and over, fighting the urge to pick a poisonous flower or two, plan my brother's death for the hundredth time.

* * *

The sun's set by the time I head home, though the streets are still alive with people. The older kids and adults nod to me as I hop by on the roofs, and for brief moments I'm thinking more about the new respect I'm given than my duty. Is that new respect I see as they meet my red eyes? Do they see a full member of the Uchiha clan as I run past?

That passes quickly. It's hard for me to look everyone in the eye with a smile when I can recall their deaths with perfect precision. Mother and I eat our dinner quietly, though she seems less angry than before, and she even makes me my favorite tea, sweet and a little spicy, just how I like it. It's a little bitter, but it's been ages since she's made it for me, so I don't say anything to spoil the moment. She watches closely as I drink it, smiling fondly, and things start to feel like they're going back to normal. I smile back.

"There's a clan meeting tonight that I have to get to, " I nod back, unsurprised, "so don't expect your father and I to be back till late. " She maintains eye contact, as if expecting something more, but I'm too exhausted from the day to work up a good night. Mother comes in after I've brushed my teeth and changed, ruffling my hair and smiling in a tired way. I smile back. Tonight won't be like the last time. Shisui will figure something out. Mother hugs me tight, puts her cheek to mine and whispers "Good night Sasuke. I'll always love you. " She locks eyes with me for second, and her eyes are spinning, and I'm slipping into sleep even as I wonder at my sudden exhaustion.

I wake up with a gasp, throwing off my covers in a flash. My room is dark and even my eyes detect nothing strange. Was that a genjutsu? I had only ever experienced Itachi's but it felt like what people had described. Mother must have put me to sleep, but why? The kunai on my nightstand, the shuriken hanging in the closet, and a roll of wire under my pillow—I grab them frantically, hands shaking as much as I try to control myself, and I barrel out of my room, door slamming loud in the silence. With still trembling hands and dreading what I'll see I push open my parent's door. A neatly made bed, slippers on either side. Nothing. My breathing slows. They must still be at the meeting so there's nothing to worry about.

And yet the world still seems off, as though I'm missing something. My house was empty, but at the edge of my hearing the faintest sound...Just like I had learned in class I stood motionless, eyes closed, concentrating on my breath. My chakra pooled hot and deep at my core and as my fear fed it, spilled up through my spine and throat gates, and as I sharpened my awareness, into my ears. Noise sharpened around me and along with a dozen different sounds: blade cutting into flesh. I'm running almost before I notice where it's coming from, part of me resigned to this fate.

Bare feet against stone and then I'm in the forest I've grown up training in, relying on memory and red eyes to guide me through the darkness. As I get closer trees lie scattered and broken, some charred black, and I push myself faster. This can't be. I come to a skidding halt outside the shrine. A crater, the ground cut out as if a giant had pressed a finger into the earth and erased it, though bare building supports stand left over against each other. A brief blur topped with a shock of gray hair flickers away too fast to track, but I forget it all when I see Itachi.

His back is to me but I can see the blood on his sword. No words.

8 kunai flung in a quarter arc, and as my hands blur through signs, I breathe in bitter air and breathe out every bit of rage and anger in a ball of fire so intense the stone beneath it chars in bare instants. I know it's not enough even as I close my eyes and throw 3 more kunai through the flames, set to intercept the first bunch. The blades will soften in the heat—but the fire should blind him to the knives for an instant. In a wave of heat the shrine collapses further, but even as my heart breaks from our clan's heart burning to ash I'm yelling "Brother! Come and face me!" Nothing. I hear my ragged breath amidst the roar of flames and spin around, desperate to find Itachi.

In a confused blur I'm swung roughly into the ground and I breathe out roughly, struggling for breath. Itachi hand closes around my throat and I can see, clearer than ever, that no attack has touched him. He's not even singed. But he looks puzzled and in that hurried moment I think I see tear tracks down his face.

"Sasuke? Already?"

He dares to mock me? A rising tide of anger in my veins fills me with brief strength and I swing my fist around to hit him. He catches my hand and squeezes till I hear the crack. For a brief second he looks shocked at his own actions. Does he think pain will stop me? I squirm, get my other hand free, and claw at his eyes. I'll blind him, make him pay. Pain and a burst of stars as Itachi knees my stomach hard, and I struggle for air. It doesn't matter. If I die I'll try again…but I need to scratch him, prove I can do /something/. But all I have is weakness. Even as his hand grasps my head and pulls me up I look away frantically, struggling to avoid his gaze. With the little breath I have left and the hot anger inside I do my best to breath flames. My throat burns, smoke billows around me, and I can barely think in the pain I'm in—but I'm free, at least for a moment, scrabbling at the dirt to find my kunai and my courage. As quick as I can I stab towards my own neck, shutting my eyes at the last moment. But I'm a coward. Itachi stands before me, unruffled as usual, and I can't bring myself to die quickly. My hands drop to my sides and I drop the blade. I meet his twisted gaze.

AN: Decided to edit the chapter. I removed the Izanami/Izanagi scene because feedback from readers made me realize it was unrealistic. Doesn't substantially change the plot, but it did strain SOD.

If you're interested in what happens behind the scenes, since I won't do another interlude for this loop and its intended to be confusing to Sasuke: Itachi and Shisui capture Danzo, retreat to the Shrine, summon Fugaku, who calls the Uchiha elders and Mikoto to the shrine. They ask Hiruzen to meet with them. Hiruzen brings Kakashi, Kakashi's ANBU squad, and his guard. A series of misunderstandings + Danzo (wakes up from the genjutsu, disoriented, confusing past/present) blows himself up with that suicide sealing jutsu leading to a fight. Shisui, Fugaku, Uchiha elders, Hiruzen and ANBU are all killed in the suicide ensuing fight. Shisui commands (via Koto eyes) Kakashi and Itachi to preserve the village before he dies. Itachi decides to shoulder the blame for this (so it looks like a lone psycho instead of treason) and as Kakashi and Itachi are planning, they notice Sasuke. Itachi decides to pull a plan similar to canon!Itachi but hasn't had time to emotionally prepare himself, so he's not up to his usual emotionless standards.

Any and all feedback is welcome.


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